


Warriors: Prophecy of the Setting Sun

by heighthe (esevoire)



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Betrayal, Cats, Dark Forest (Warriors), F/F, F/M, Family Drama, Family Loss, Inspired by Warriors - Erin Hunter, Internal Conflict, LGBTQ Cats (Warriors), LGBTQ Character, Love, Manipulation, Original Cat Clans (Warriors), StarClan (Warriors), Tags Are Hard, Tags May Change, Violence, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:35:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 63,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27896170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esevoire/pseuds/heighthe
Summary: Countless seasons after the Great War between Deadeye and the Clans, tales of Spottedpath are still told by queens to their young kits—and horror stories of Deadeye and his war crimes are told by the elders to young apprentices. The Clans have prospered in an era of peace along the borders, with next to no disputes between—or within—the five Clans.During the time of peace, half-Clan relationships became more common and even accepted by most, though many remained wary of MistClan, the newest addition to the forest. The Clans also grew ignorant of increasing conflicts from rogues on their own territories. While most remained spiteful toward the Clan-less cats, many took on rogue mates, and several high-ranking cats were brought in by rogues seeking refuge.One specific group of rogues decides to sink its claws into the weak spots of the Clans, making NightClan an unlikely target. Meanwhile, mysterious cats from a dark afterlife take young cats under their wings, convincing them that they and the rogues have only the best intentions in mind.𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘦: 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘤!
Comments: 37
Kudos: 9





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just like before, I've linked to the cast-lists before the story starts for anyone who wants to see them! These ones include much more of my own original art, which you can also find on my deviantart and tumblr!
> 
> im also linking a carrd that i try to keep updates as i publish chapters, where you can read everything about the clans, their cultures, and more! it's not necessary to read through, but i thought itd be a nice lore tidbit to check out

[Cast, without MistClan](http://apawineachworld.com/untoldlegacy/?guid=f894ef7c-5224-43a4-a4db-49382602ad06) and [Cast without NightClan and the rogues](http://apawineachworld.com/untoldlegacy/?guid=bd7bd002-4365-400c-b14d-bc16636a8295). _And,_[The Carrd of my Clans!](https://theclansofese.carrd.co/)

* * *

A brown tabby molly sat atop a grassy ridge. Thin patches of mist weaved around her body as the air carried them along, though she hardly seemed to notice them. Her eyes were trained on a distant forest, residing above a deep gorge. Even though the territory was far out of her reach, she could still hear the faint roar of a river at the bottom of the ravine, its waters higher and its currents feral from the thaws of newleaf.

Slowly, the she-cat's gaze traveled across the land before her. From the southern harsh forest above the cliff, to the eastern, barren territory. A faint hint of green littered the otherwise desolate patch of land, promising new growths for the seasons to come. To the west, the long grass of marshy moorland swayed in the wind, and the molly thought that the motions mimicked the dancing of spirits in the breeze. To the northeast, another river winded through a patch of a forest, its tides mimicking those of the gorge to the south. Then, to the northwest, a much more thickly forested piece of land seemed to be in full bloom.

In the middle of the territory rested a massive tree, and hidden in its leaves was a sneaky twinkle that caught the eye of the brown tabby. She tilted her head and leaned forward, trying—and failing—to get a closer look. Far beyond the territories, the sun began to set faster than she had ever seen. It slowed down as crimson rays of light were cast over not only the forest, but the ridge where the brown tabby sat. The final clouds overhead split apart to highlight her with a much more intense light.

At least, she thought it was aimed at her. When she realized she wasn't sitting under the warm embrace of the sunset, she turned to see what exactly _was_ captured by its light. Next to her was a patch of silver ragwort, its fuzzy leaves stained red by the light that shone upon it.

No sooner than she saw it, the breeze began to pick up until it had reached torrential speeds. The she-cat unsheathed her claws and dug them into the soil beneath her, as if she were holding on for dear life. Masses of clouds rolled across the sky, blotting out the blood-red sheen that the sunset had cast over everything. The plant, however, remained stained red, its leaves eerily still in the stinging winds that weaved around the she-cat.

Almost as soon as it had started, the wind ceased without warning. Even the clouds high above had screeched to a halt, though the loomed threateningly overhead.

_"A great storm, given countless seasons to fester, will soon wreak havoc on the Clans."_

The tone of a thousand voices rang out, nearly deafening the molly. Far on the horizon, black storm clouds swirled together and crept menacingly across the sky. They snuffed out every light source, sending a dark shadow across all land in sight—but the ragwort remained red. Just when the brown-furred she-cat thought she would suffocate from the darkness, thunder rattled the earth and lightning tore a path across the sky. As if on cue, the clouds released a burst of rain. The droplets fell so hard that they bounced back off the ground by a hair, creating a sheen of mist along the earth.

The brown tabby squinted through the blinding, pouring rain, and stiffened when she saw that the rain was washing away the vermillion shades that stained the silver ragwort. A few final gusts of wind shoved the molly around before receding, followed closely by the rain, and then the dark clouds. The sun peeked out from the clouds—higher in the sky now, with glorious golden rays bursting from it. A few of these rays were directed to the soaking she-cat and the plant next to her, which she noticed glittered in the new light.

She took a few deep breaths as she tried to ground herself. Slowly, she took a step backwards to sit down—a step too far, she realized, as she slipped over the ledge of the ridge she had chosen and plummeted into nothingness.

With a start, she found herself awake in front of a pool that glittered with starlight. Around her sat four other cats, murmuring with each other cheerfully. Thin wisps of mist wrapped themselves around her as if to comfort her, while a small series of waterfalls rumbled reassuringly. Slowly, the molly sat up and looked around. As she did so, she realized that she'd been digging her claws into the edges of the pool, and that her companions were watching her worriedly.

"Rowanspots, are you okay?" asked a very dark grey molly.

"Yeah, you don't look too well," a fluffy ginger she-cat added, her gaze flitting across the brown tabby's form.

"What did you see?" a pale brown tom whispered urgently, his eyes wide as he waited for a response.

The brown tabby she-cat shook her head in an attempt to clear it. An unsettling sensation had taken hold of her, and she had to force air into her lungs with every breath. When she finally managed a response, her voice was raspy and strained.

"I . . . I think I just received a prophecy," 


	2. Intro to NightClan (01)

Silverkit wriggled excitedly as she sat next to Cricketkit, her brown tabby denmate. In front of them was Stormkit, standing tall on a boulder that rested up against the woven bramble wall outside the nursery. He waved his tail proudly and reared back to let out a proud mewl.

"I, Stormstar, name you Silvershadow and Cricketjump of NightClan!" he yowled, squinting down at Silverkit and their denmate.

"Cricketjump!" Silverkit cheered Cricketkit's pretend name and bounced around happily. The brown tabby joined her quickly and they started dancing around, scuffing dust up with their movements. Stormkit leaped down from the boulder to join them, nearly barreling into the two kits as he stumbled over his own paws.

Silverkit slowed down when a flash of golden fur caught her eye.  _ Oh, great, _ she thought sourly when she saw that Waspkit was approaching them.  _ Waspkit is coming to grace us with his attitude. _ Just as she suspected, Waspkit let out a scoff as he approached the three kits.

"Come  _ on, _ Cricketkit!" he groaned with a twitch of his tail. "We have to get ready for our apprentice ceremony, you can't keep playing these games like a little kit!"

Out of the corner of her eye, Silverkit saw Stormkit reel backwards, as if he took offense to their denmate's harsh words. Silverkit rolled her eyes at Waspkit when Cricketkit reluctantly padded away.  _ He's always so serious! _

"Sorry, guys," Cricketkit mewed apologetically. "I'll see you after the ceremony!"

"Fine!" Silverkit sighed reluctantly. "Come on, Stormkit! Let's race to the root above the medicine den!"

She took off before Stormkit could respond, laughing when she heard his paws scrape against the clearing floor as he scrambled to catch up. Once he set a pace, he seemed to get caught up with ease, and Silverkit started straining to stay ahead of him. They both scrambled up the large root that formed the roof of the medicine den, reaching the top at the same time.

"I beat you!" Stormkit exclaimed happily, clinging onto the bark of the root with his claws.

"No way!" Silverkit mewed indignantly, holding onto the root twice as tightly as her brother. "I got here first!"

"Fine, we tied," her brother gave a huff of exasperation before flicking his tail toward the leader's den—or rather, the two large boulders that were wedged against the tree behind it. "We'll race again—this time, to the top of the leader's den!"

Silverkit turned around and peered up at the top of the looming boulders. It seemed so far away, and she thought the climb would be far too steep for her. Of course, she didn't let Stormkit know how she felt. She turned to the dark grey tom and gave him a fierce glance, digging her claws into the root beneath her once more.

"Okay, let's go!" Silverkit nodded decidedly before launching herself onto the base of the stone. 

Beside her, Stormkit scrabbled helplessly against the smooth surface for a few heartbeats before finding his footing and rocketing to the top of the boulder. Silverkit kept struggling desperately to find a foothold as she claws her way up the formation. Once she neared the top, she started to feel herself tipping backwards.  _ Oh no, I'm falling! _ In an attempt to find stable footing she lashed at the stone, and as a result she lost what little hold she had and began to fall. As soon as she started sprawling into the air, Silverkit felt teeth snatch at her scruff and hold her securely.

"Woah, there!" spoke a familiar, friendly voice. Silverkit found herself perking up as she easily recognized the sound, scrambling from their grasp to properly greet the cat who had rescued her.

"Uncle Thistlestar!" Stormkit bellowed before she could say anything, barreling down from the boulder and tackling Silverkit's savior. Silverkit copied his motions as Thistlestar pretended to rock backwards under the force of their pounces, letting out a warm laugh.

"What were you two doing up there?" the white tom queried after a few moments. "You could have gotten hurt, you know."

"As if!" Silverkit retorted quickly, the fear of her near-fall now gone, though her tail was still fluffed up to twice its normal size.

"Yeah, we wouldn't get hurt!" Stormkit chimed in, looking up at their uncle. "We're mighty warriors!"

"Even  _ mighty warriors _ get hurt sometimes," Thistlestar reminded them gently, nudging them both with a paw. "Where's your mother at? It's nearly time for Cricketkit and Waspkit's ceremony, and you two shouldn't be climbing on top of the dens." Silverkit opened her mouth to say that their mother, Mintwillow, was resting in the nursery when she spotted her dark silver pelt approaching quickly.

"I'm right here," Mintwillow mewed crossly before fixing the kits with a harsh gaze. "Come on, you two. Let Thistlestar continue his preparations—StarClan knows he doesn't need to be watching out for you, too."

Silverkit and Stormkit groaned in harmonic disappointment and followed their mother back to the patch of sand outside the nursery. Once she vanished into their den once again, Silverkit turned to her brother, feeling mischievous.

"Let's play mossball! I bet Rowanspots has some extra moss in her den!" she whispered excitedly, giving Stormkit a nudge.

"Okay, but you have to get the moss!" Stormkit mewed glanced at the medicine den. "Last time I went, I messed up her herb bundles, and Rowanspots scolded me for a moon!" 

"Whatever, you big scaredy-mouse!" Silverkit rolled her eyes and trotted off toward the medicine cat's den. Luckily for her, Rowanspots was nowhere to be seen; the ginger-spotted brown tabby was likely out collecting herbs.

Silverkit quickly made her way to Rowanspots' collection of moss, sticking to the edges of the den to avoid making the same mistake as Stormkit. After grabbing a mouthful of the soft, green material, she hurried out of the den and started to bound over to her brother.

"Here," she mewed as she spat it out and rolled it into a ball. Before Stormkit could grab it, Silverkit hooked her claw into it and flung it at him.

"Hey!"

She ignored the dark grey kit's protests as she laughed and bounded away from him. Silverkit rounded the stone that they'd once perched on as they pretended to be mighty warriors, and when she peeked back over the top she saw the moss ball flying directly towards her at speeds faster than she could react.

Just as she thought it would hit her in the face, a brown paw reached out and barely caught the ball with its claws. Silverkit flinched at the new appearance and looked up to see Cricketkit perched on the stone.

"Do you guys mind if I play?" he mewed hopefully with a sideways glance toward the nursery. 

"Sure!" Silverkit responded cheerily as she hopped up onto the rock. With a wary glance around, she noted that Waspkit was nowhere to be seen, so she snatched the moss ball from Cricketkit and tossed it to Stormkit.

The three kits continued to throw the ball of moss back and forth, none of them noticing that they gradually grew closer to the warriors' den with their game. Eventually, Stormkit stood readily in front of the entrance to the den, unaware of the fact that a shadow was emerging from it. Silverkit threw the ball high into the air and realized far too late that it would soar over Stormkit's paws, hitting the nearby warrior—who she'd realized was Dawnstrike, a grouchy, cream-furred molly—right on the shoulder.

Dawnstrike let out a surprised hiss as the mossy ball bounced off of her and rolled pathetically back towards the nursery. Within an instant she had rounded on the three kits, her green eyes bright with an anger that frightened Silverkit. She, along with her brother and Cricketkit, turned to race away from the cross warrior only to freeze as Dawnstrike suddenly towered over them threateningly. 

"You two are two moons away from becoming apprentices, it's time to stop this silly nonsense!" Dawnstrike spat furiously. "What would Thistlestar say? And Cricketkit, your apprentice ceremony is today!" Her exasperated muttering didn't stop there, but it quickly became indistinguishable to the young cats.

"Sorry, Dawnstrike," Silverkit mewed tentatively. Next to her, Stormkit said nothing and stomped away with defiance shining in his jade green eyes. Silverkit followed him quickly with Cricketkit at her heels.

"I don't know why she's always so cranky!" Stormkit swiped at the moss ball once they reached the nursery, scattering it towards Silverkit. She flinched at the suddenness of it, and he quickly grew apologetic. "Sorry, Silv, I didn't realize you were so close."

Cricketkit flicked his tail thoughtfully when neither of them spoke again. "My dad says that she wasn't always cranky like this. She's never opened up to anyone about it, either." As he spoke, the trio padded into the nursery, though Silverkit didn't see Waspkit or either of their mothers nearby, though their scents were fresh.

"She's  _ probably _ mad 'cause she found out her father was a dirty rogue," Waspkit appeared around a bend in the den's wall, his chin and tail held high. Silverkit shot an uneasy glance toward Stormkit at the comment and saw that he looked equally uncomfortable by their denmate's words. 

"Waspkit, you know better!" Suddenly, Mintwillow loomed over them. Each of the kits jumped at her sudden presence, spinning to face her sheepishly. "Your mother's parents were rogues—and our medicine cat! You should consider yourself lucky that neither of them were here for that."

Silverkit watched as Waspkit flinched in surprise, then seemed to notice her and Stormkit again. Guilt flashed over his expression and he bowed his head, mewing, "Sorry, Stormkit and Silverkit. I didn't mean anything by it—"

"It's fine!" Silverkit responded quickly when she saw Stormkit open his mouth for an angry retort. "Besides, we don't even know if our dad was a rogue or not. It's no big deal."

Waspkit looked uncertain for a few moments before squeezing past them and heading toward the den entrance. Beside Silverkit, Cricketkit was scowling at his brother as he crossed the den, and he kept the sour expression until the golden tom was out of sight. Then, he turned an apologetic gaze toward Silverkit and Stormkit.

"I'm sorry, you guys," he murmured softly. "I don't know why he'd say something like that."

"It's whatever," Stormkit muttered quietly, not meeting Cricketkit's or Silverkit's gazes. "Don't you gotta prepare for your ceremony?"

"Yeah, seriously!" Silverkit chimed in. "You should go get ready! We'll be cheering for you from the sidelines."

Cricketkit stammered out a quick  _ 'thank you' _ before hurrying out of the nursery. Behind the two remaining kits, Mintwillow let out a soft chuckle, reminding them of her presence, and that she had watched the entire exchange.

"I'm proud to call you two my kits." The dark silver-and-white queen leaned down to give each of their foreheads a quick, affectionate lick before straightening out. "Come on, let's go watch the ceremony."

She led the two kits out of the nursery quietly and climbed onto the stone just outside, basking in the sun that warmed its surface. Silverkit sat a few tail-lengths away with Stormkit and watched quietly as their older Clanmates seemed to bustle about with preparations. The sound of something faint tickled her eardrums, and when she looked around she saw Thistlestar whispering to Mistypool, a deep grey molly that Silverkit knew as her grandmother.

"Mother, are you certain?" Thistlestar whispered quickly as Silverkit crept closer to them. "Don't forget, you and Daisynose can retire whenever you want now—I can always take on another apprentice, too."

"I'll know when I'm ready to retire," Mistypool snapped back, startling Silverkit. "I'm far from being ready for that—StarClan, I'm not even four seasons older than Wrenfeather!"

"Maybe not, but my deputy's not stressing about an apprentice, either," Thistlestar responded coolly with a flick of his wispy-furred tail. 

"Oh, I'm sure he will be soon." Mistypool let out a soft laugh and sent her gaze toward Silverkit. The action sent Thistlestar's attention to her, and Silverkit felt her ears heat up with the embarrassment of being caught listening to them.

The argument quickly ceased, but as Thistlestar padded off she swore she heard him mutter something about keeping an eye on the senior warrior. As soon as they were gone, Silverkit turned to ask Stormkit if he knew what Mistypool had meant. When she was met by a blank space where Stormkit had once sat, she looked around and saw that he had snuck toward the edges of the forming crowd. 

Stormkit had seemingly found a place next to Rookpaw, Icepaw, and Falconpaw, and Silverpaw felt herself grow jealous as she watched him chat easily with the older apprentices.  _ I wanna be friends with them, too, _ she thought and considered joining her brother. When Thistlestar leaped onto the boulder above his den, and then onto a nearby overhanging root they called the Highroot, she settled on her spot near Mintwillow.

"I'd call a Clan meeting, but it seems like you're all here already," Thistlestar called out at first as his gaze swept over the cats below him. His amber eyes, softened by his amusement, rested on the two eldest kits as he spoke their names. "Cricketkit, Waspkit, step forward."

Silverkit leaned forward and watched her denmates pad to the front of the crowd. Waspkit's body was rigid, but even from across the camp she could see excitement swimming in his green gaze. Beside him, Cricketkit trembled nervously as he stared up at their leader.  _ I bet it's so nerve-wracking! Especially with everyone watching them,  _ Silverkit thought.

"Cricketkit, you've reached the age of six moons, and now it is time for you to start your apprenticeship. From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you'll be known as Cricketpaw. Dovesong trained Sandfoot well, and I trust that she will pass down all she knows to you, as well." Thistlestar paused before turning to the warrior he named. "Dovesong, you're ready to take on another apprentice. You received excellent training from Snailbelly, and you've shown yourself to be patient and loyal. You will mentor Cricketpaw until he's ready to receive his warrior name, and I expect you to turn him into a great warrior."

Dovesong, a beautiful grey molly, padded forward to meet Cricketpaw. Her eyes glittered with amusement as she leaned forward to touch her nose to the brown tabby tom's, and Silverkit perked her ears when she saw the warrior murmur something to the new apprentice.

"Waspkit, you've also reached the age of six moons, and therefore you must begin your training alongside Cricketpaw. From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you'll be known as Wasppaw. Mistypool has trained many warriors before you, and I have faith that she will teach you everything she knows." Thistlestar hesitated before turning to the senior warrior and addressing her. "Mistypool, you received wonderful training from Warblerwing, and you've proven yourself to be driven and hard-working. You'll take Wasppaw under your wing, and I trust that you'll teach him everything you've learned over the seasons."

The clearing erupted into cheers for the new apprentices. Silverkit stood up on her hindlegs to cheer their names, and saw that, for once, Wasppaw had let go of his serious attitude. While he danced not-so-subtly on his paws, Cricketpaw trembled from his excitement. Slowly, the celebrations died down, and Silverkit started trotting forward to congratulate them.

Icepaw cut in front of her path, and Silverkit hesitated to watch the grey molly make her way to the front of the crowd.

"U-Um, I actually have something to say," she called out, her tail quivering nervously as she addressed Thistlestar. Silverkit stopped dead in her tracks, enthralled by whatever Icepaw had to say—she'd never seen anyone speak up unannounced before.

"What is it, Icepaw?" Thistlestar asked, stopping halfway on his descent from his perch. The confusion in his amber eyes only confirmed that this wasn't a planned announcement, which further drew Silverkit's curiosity. 

"I'd like to become a medicine cat apprentice," Icepaw mewed, looking down at her paws sheepishly. "I talked to Rowanspots about it, and we decided it would suit me better."

"What are you talking about?" Dawnstrike shoved past Silverkit as if she didn't even see the young cat, stopping when she neared her apprentice. "Your training was going so well!"

"No, it wasn't!" Icepaw snapped quickly, though it didn't sound angry to Silverkit—it sounded pained and apologetic. "I'm no good at hunting, and I can't even beat my own littermates when we train!"

"Icepaw, are you sure about this?" Cindertalon, a dark grey tom, spoke up. Silverkit peered around Dawnstrike and saw that the younger warrior looked concerned, yet proud, and remembered that he was her father—that he, Icepaw, Rookpaw, and Falconpaw had come to the Clan as rogues before she could form proper memories.

"Yes, I'm sure." The clarity in Icepaw's voice echoed through the clearing.

"This is nonsense!" Dawnstrike insisted, unsheathing her claws and digging them into the pine needle-laden earth beneath them. "Icepaw, come on, your warrior assessment is so close! Only a couple more moons, and you'd be set!" Silverkit slowly started backing away from the distressed warrior and saw that Thistlestar had fully descended from his perch and was approaching the two cats cautiously. 

"Dawnstrike, calm yourself—"

"Don't tell me to calm down, Thistlestar." Dawnstrike spat at their leader with newfound venom to her tone. Silverkit flinched, started by the ferocity of her voice, and shuddered as a dead silence fell over the clearing. Even her uncle looked taken aback by the words, and when Dawnstrike realized what she'd said, she grew visibly embarrassed. 

"I don't  _ want _ to be a warrior," Icepaw whispered, looking away from Dawnstrike.

"Fine," Dawnstrike responded, her voice even quieter than the timid apprentice's. Without another word, the cream-furred molly turned and padded toward the camp entrance. Sandfoot, the pale orange tabby that was her brother, rushed past Silverkit to follow her but was stopped by Dovesong. 

"Give her some space," the pretty warrior mewed softly. Sandfoot begrudgingly agreed and joined a few other warriors as the group dispersed. Silverkit finally turned away from the scene, bumping into Stormkit as she did so.

"That was intense!" Stormkit breathed out to her. His green eyes glittered with anticipation as he peeked around Silverkit and eyed the camp entrance.

"I know!" Silverkit replied quietly. "I've  _ never _ seen anyone snap at Thistlestar like that."

"Maybe we should follow her," Stormkit mewed thoughtfully, his eyes not once leaving the camp entrance.

"What? No!" Silverkit found herself bristling at the thought of leaving the camp. "We'd get into so much trouble!"

"Only if we get caught." When she saw that her brother had a dangerously mischievous glint in his eyes, her stomach turned with anxiety.

"Storm, we could have our apprentice ceremonies delayed." She fixed her brother with a serious look, and he finally caved.

"Ugh, fine!" he groaned reluctantly. "You're no fun sometimes, Silverkit."

Silverkit let out a huff and tackled Stormkit playfully. "And you're just a troublemaker!"

"A troublemaker that'll turn into a great leader!" Stormkit retorted with a burst of laughter. He swiped back at Silverkit, cuffing her ears gently a few times.

"Is that a challenge?" Thistlestar's warm voice startled the kits apart, and he laughed when they scrambled to their paws. "You'll have to work hard to earn a chance at deputyship, Stormkit." With one paw, the white tom reached out to ruffle Stormkit's fur. Silverkit burst into a loud purr as she watched them.

"It'll be easy when he has you to look up to!" Silverkit rushed forward to tackle him, but found herself struggling against his outstretched paw.

"I sure hope so," Thistlestar murmured affectionately before rising to his paws. "I'd love to play, little ones, but I've got to have a word with Dawnstrike. Keep each other out of trouble while I'm gone."

With that, Thistlestar padded out of the camp. Silverkit watched as his wispy-furred tail vanished into the camp entrance before shooting Stormkit a skeptical glance.  _ That was certainly odd, _ she thought to herself, though she didn't voice it in fear of Stormkit urging her to sneak out again.  _ I wonder what's going on with Thistlestar and Dawnstrike. _


	3. An Early Gift (02)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thistlestar surprises his sister's kits with an early apprentice ceremony, and they quickly fall into step alongside their Clanmates as they perform their duties.

Two moons had passed since Cricketpaw and Wasppaw became apprentices. Stormkit had grown painfully impatient alongside Silverkit. They yearned to go to the Gathering just like the older cats did and meet the new apprentices of other Clans. Cricketpaw had told them that the newest apprentices, Lilypaw and Webpaw of RushClan, were a bit odd, but he poked fun at the fact that Wasppaw grew flustered around the one named Lilypaw. 

Now Stormkit sat wedged in a small hole outside the elders' den, listening to the senior Clan members gossip about the happenings in camp. His own apprentice ceremony was scheduled in a few sunrises, and he knew this was as good a time as any to get entertainment before he started his training and the inevitable, dreaded elder duties.

"Letting another rogue become medicine cat is a bad idea," Vinecrawl, a sandy-yellow molly grumbled. A grunt of agreement came from someone Stormkit couldn't see, but he thought it was Snailbelly, Vinecrawl's littermate.

"You two forget about your own lineage." Stormkit peered through a few brambles to watch Warblerwing shake his head, the curly tufts of fur on his cheeks bouncing with the action. Next to him sat Lynxtail, her unusually short tail twitching with annoyance.

"Sandstripe and Firthistle were both Clan cats," Vinecrawl retorted defensively. "Being half-Clan is not the same as being a rogue, and it was more acceptable after the Great War, too. Maybe if they'd been brought as newborns, it would be different—"

"Newtsplash and Rowanspots _were_ brought as newborns," Lynxtail reminded the younger elder coolly, her voice raspy with age.

"—but Icepaw and her littermates were old enough to be apprenticed when Cindertalon brought them here. How could a grown rogue develop the connection to StarClan that medicine cats need?" Vinecrawl finished her remark by stomping out of Stormkit's line of sight.

Stormkit resisted the urge to jump into the den and tell the elders off. He narrowed his eyes as their words started to plant seeds of doubt within him. _What if_ our _dad is a rogue? Would that make our Clanmates doubt Silverkit and me, too? Maybe_ that's _why Dawnstrike is so mad all the time._ He started to feel sympathetic toward the grumpy warrior as he listened to the elders bicker more.

"You have no room to talk, Vinecrawl," Lynxtail growled at her. "Sandfoot and Dawnstrike received harsh criticism long after everyone found out about their father—your own kits, for StarClan's sake, and look what it did to poor Dawnstrike! Yet here you are, repeating the same words used against them for moons."

"That's different!"

Stormkit frowned as Vinecrawl grew more defensive. _It's not different at all!_ he thought sourly, even more tempted to leap into the den and confront them.

"I raised them here from the start!" the elder added after a tense moment of silence.

"Lynxtail has a point, Vinecrawl," Snailbelly spoke up reluctantly, padding into Stormkit's sight. His pale brown fur was tangled, just like Warblerwing's, though his was tangled in a way that looked as if he hadn't groomed himself recently. 

"It's no different at all." Stormkit breathed out a sigh of relief when Warblerwing voiced his own thoughts. "Icepaw will be a fine medicine cat to us, especially if Rowanspots agrees. _She_ was found abandoned by rogues when she was only a kit, and she receives visions and signs just fine!"

Before the argument could continue, Stormkit backed out of his hiding spot, not wanting to let the elders further irritate him. As he was padding away from the den, he bumped into Silverkit, who didn't seem to pick up on his irritation. 

"Hi Stormkit!" she chirped cheerily. "Are you ready for our apprentice ceremony? I can't believe it's only a few sunrises away!"

The reminder immediately cheered Stormkit up, and he nodded quickly. "Yeah! I wonder who our mentors will be, though."

Silverkit glanced around as if she was about to tell her brother a big secret. "I bet one of us will be assigned to Wrenfeather! I overheard Thistlestar and Mistypool talking a while ago, and it sounded like they're planning on it!"

"Mentored by the deputy?" Stormkit responded, quickly becoming enamored by the idea. "That's awesome! Which of us will it be?"

"I hope it's you," Silverkit mewed with a twitch of her whiskers. "I know you wanna be an awesome leader someday, so being mentored by the deputy would be great!"

Behind Silverkit, Stormkit saw Dawnstrike crossing the clearing. "What if they change their minds and choose Dawnstrike instead, to make up for Icepaw changing roles? She's so mean . . . ."

"Maybe she's just misunderstood." Silverkit offered a weak shrug, though Stormkit could see that she didn't like the idea, either. "She seemed really hurt by Icepaw's decision to become a medicine cat, on top of whatever is going on between her and Thistlestar."

"Dawnstrike and uncle Thistlestar? What do you mean?" Stormkit rocked backwards and fixed his gaze on the short-tempered warrior again. He hadn't thought that something was happening between the two cats.

"You saw how she snapped at him!" Silverkit retorted lightheartedly. "There's gotta be something going on there—Thistlestar hardly even responded to what she said!"

"I guess you have a point," Stormkit mewed slowly as he thought about it. _Uncle Thistlestar_ did _go out after her, too,_ he reminded himself.

"Kits, come on!" Mintwillow poked her head out of the nursery and called to them. "It's time to get ready for your ceremony!"

"What? Our ceremony isn't today," Stormkit responded in disbelief while Silverkit immediately started bouncing around excitedly.

"Thistlestar decided to surprise you both. Come on, now!" Their mother vanished back into the nursery once she saw her kits scampering toward her. Or, rather, Silverkit was scampering excitedly while Stormkit took on a slower pace.

Inside the nursery, Mintwillow quickly started grooming the both of them. Stormkit let out a few half-hearted grumbles as she licked the top of his head roughly, trying not to show just how much the action comforted him. Beside him, Silverkit purred loudly, her body nearly vibrating from her visible excitement. Stormkit let out a soft laugh as he watched her, his sister's cheeriness making him feel a bit more at ease. 

"Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather before the Highroot!" Thistlestar's voice echoed from the clearing. Mintwillow gave them both a final, firm lick on their foreheads before sending them out into the clearing.

Once in the main clearing, Stormkit saw that a large crowd had already formed in front of Thistlestar's perch and quickly grew nervous. He took a few steps forward and noticed that Silverkit fell behind a few paces. When Stormkit glanced back at her, he realized that she looked hesitant for once, and he fell back to give her an encouraging nudge. She seemed grateful for his support and together they padded forward until they stood near the front of the crowd.

"Stormkit and Silverkit, step forward." Thistlestar's voice rang out and drove the siblings forward. "Stormkit, you've reached the age of six moons, and thus it is time for you to start your apprenticeship. From this day on, until you earn your warrior name, you'll be known as Stormpaw. Your mentor will be Wrenfeather, and I know that he will pass down everything he knows to you. Wrenfeather, you're the best deputy a cat could have, and you taught Ferrettail well. I expect you to teach Stormpaw just as well."

Stormpaw felt his excitement well up as he padded forward to meet Wrenfeather. He touched his nose to the golden-brown tom, hoping that the deputy couldn't see his childish exhilaration. Then, he looked back at Silverkit and felt anticipation replace his excitement. _I hope she doesn't get assigned to Dawnstrike,_ he fretted. _She'd be way too hard on her!_

"Silverkit, you too have reached the age of apprenticeship, and it is time to take on your apprentice name. From this day on, until you earn your warrior name, you'll be known as Silverpaw. Your mentor will be Cindertalon." Thistlestar paused as the dark grey warrior padded forward to meet the excited Silverpaw. "Cindertalon, you're more than ready for your first apprentice. You received excellent training from Mistypool, and you've shown yourself to be clever and strategic. I trust that you will teach Silverpaw everything you know."

As Stormpaw watched his sister greet her mentor, he began to feel conflicted about the result. _Why would he assign one of us to an ex-rogue? Wouldn't the others start rumors, just like they have with Icepaw and Dawnstrike?_ Near the back of the crowd, Stormpaw noticed the cream-furred warrior sulking angrily. _So many cats seem to have something against rogues, and Cindertalon and all of his kits were rogues, but they seem so nice . . . I won't let anyone talk about_ us _like that if our father is a rogue! We'll be the best warriors NightClan has ever seen!_ Stormpaw stood tall as he felt his thoughts fill him with certainty and warmth.

"Stormpaw! Silverpaw!"

Around them, a chorus of cheers from their Clanmates filled the air and Stormpaw puffed his chest out proudly. Wrenfeather gestured to him, and as he followed the deputy to a more secluded spot, Cindertalon joined them with Silverpaw.

"Stormpaw, I still have to finish assigning duties for the day," Wrenfeather mewed regretfully as he sat down. "Go and greet your new denmates while I finish, and after I'm done I'll come give you your first assignment."

"Go on with him, Silverpaw," Cindertalon nodded to the silver-point molly. "I've got a little while before my first patrol, so I'll come fetch you with Wrenfeather for your duties."

Stormpaw nodded obediently and rushed off toward the apprentices' den—their new den—with Silverpaw close on his heels. Outside sat Cricketpaw and Wasppaw, the former happy to see their old denmates. Wasppaw, on the other hand, looked just as serious as always. For the time being, Rookpaw and Falconpaw were nowhere to be seen, and Stormpaw assumed Icepaw was in the medicine den with Rowanspots.

"Your first day as apprentices will be the worst," Wasppaw warned them before they could utter a greeting.

"Why?" Stormpaw mewed and eyed the golden tom, feeling a bit skeptical of his warning.

"You'll be stuck cleaning out the elders' bedding or checking them for ticks." Wasppaw flicked his tail matter-of-factly as he watched the two new apprentices.

Stormpaw shot a glance at Silverpaw, not sure if he believed what Wasppaw said. Regardless, they both grimaced at the idea of performing elder duties. Before they had a chance to respond, however, Stormpaw saw that Wrenfeather and Cindertalon were already approaching.

"Stormpaw," Wrenfeather called as he padded up. "Rowanspots just requested some help gathering cobwebs while she's training Icepaw. I've still got a few duties to sort out, so I probably won't have time for training today."

Stormpaw let out a crestfallen sigh. "Rowanspots _hates_ me, though!"

"I'm sure that's not true. Look, I'll be able to show you the territory tomorrow, but you have to be good for Rowanspots." Wrenfeather took on a scolding tone, but Stormpaw could see amusement in his green eyes. _Wasppaw sure takes after him in looks, but he definitely doesn't get his attitude from Wrenfeather!_ Stormpaw thought to himself as he compared the welcoming deputy to his short-tempered son.

He wouldn't admit it, but Stormpaw perked up at the idea of exploring the territory and cast his gaze to his sister. Silverpaw was watching Cindertalon closely, impatiently waiting for her own orders. Her dark grey mentor eyed her before he spoke, his tone formal.

"Check on the elders to see if they need anything," Cindertalon mewed. "Give them fresh bedding, check them for ticks and fleas, whatever they ask for. Once you're finished, you can have the day off, and I'll show you the territory with Wrenfeather and Stormpaw tomorrow."

Silverpaw visibly deflated as Cindertalon nodded to the other apprentices and padded away to join a forming patrol. Wrenfeather returned to the cluster of cats who awaited instructions, quickly falling into his position.

"Told you," Wasppaw said, sticking his nose up. "Wrenfeather barely even had time for _us_ when we were in the nursery, I doubt he'd have much time for you, Stormpaw."

Beside Stormpaw, Silverpaw let out a frustrated groan and he nudged her reassuringly. "Hey, hopefully the elders won't ask much of you!"

"They're usually pretty easy on us," Cricketpaw spoke up, looking apologetic. "I don't see why that'd change for you two. Good luck!"

At their encouraging words, Silverpaw seemed to perk up, and the two siblings went their separate ways. Stormpaw padded reluctantly toward the medicine den, pausing once he reached it to eye the curtain of lichen that was in his way. He recalled how harshly he'd been scolded last time he entered the den and took a deep breath before pushing his way into the den.

Inside the medicine den, Rowanspots sat with Icepaw, her voice echoing faintly as she ordered her to name the herbs that were lined up at their paws. When she noticed Stormpaw, the brown tabby seemed to tense up, and turned her ginger-spotted muzzle to face him only barely.

"Wrenfeather said you needed help gathering cobwebs?" Stormpaw mewed awkwardly when the medicine cat said nothing.

"Ah . . . ." Rowanspots responded slowly, her gaze fixed on Stormpaw. "Yes, I _did_ ask for that. My supply is low, but I'm a little bit preoccupied with Icepaw. There's a hollow tree trunk just outside of the camp entrance, and it usually has plenty of fresh cobwebs inside. Can you fetch some for me?"

"Sure!" Stormpaw responded briskly before bounding back out of the cave. He figured her odd behavior was simply due to his history of scattering her bundles of herbs, and didn't give it a second thought—he'd be wary of someone like himself, too. His paws prickled with excitement at the idea of leaving camp, even if it was only for a few moments. Anticipation sparked throughout his coat as he took his first step out of the camp and looked around.

From the outside, the wall of brambles surrounding the giant oak tree almost made the camp look like a stronghold. He could see the hollow tree trunk that Rowanspots mentioned a few short bounds away, so he rushed to it and reached his paw inside of it. After swiping his paw around to gather as much of the cobwebs as possible, he retracted his paw and held it off of the forest floor.

Stormpaw swiftly padded back into the camp on only three legs. Inside, he saw his mother, Mintwillow, talking to Ferrettail, a brown-and-white tom, and Newtsplash, the brown torbie mother of Cricketpaw and Wasppaw. While the tom looked disinterested in their conversation, Newtsplash seemed enthralled by whatever Stormpaw's mother was saying.

"Hi, mother!" Stormpaw called out cheerily as he crossed the clearing. Mintwillow didn't respond to his call—not even a twitch of an ear in acknowledgement as she continued her conversation. _She must have not heard me,_ he thought to himself with a shrug as he entered the medicine den.

Once inside, he saw that Rowanspots hadn't moved from where she instructed Icepaw. The grey-furred apprentice hunched over the bundles of herbs in front of her with her eyebrows furrowed, as if she were concentrating hard on the lesson.

"I brought the cobwebs, Rowanspots," Stormpaw announced softly, not wanting to distract Icepaw.

"Alright, just hang it on that smaller root that's hooking down from above," Rowanspots called without looking over. She flicked her tail in the direction of the root—luckily for Stormpaw, it wasn't far from the entrance of the den, so he didn't have to worry about scattering Rowanspots' work _again._

As Stormpaw padded to the root, staying close to the very edges of the den, he heard someone else push past the curtain behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Rookpaw, who looked disappointed when he saw that his sister was still busy with her lessons.

While Stormpaw continued padding to the root with his cobweb-covered paw raised, Rookpaw started to shadow him quietly. "That was rough, buddy," he mewed softly.

"What was?" Stormpaw responded, feeling confused as he reached up to catch the cobwebs on the root.

"The way Mintwillow ignored you like that!" The way Rookpaw said it made Stormpaw feel like it should have been obvious.

"Oh . . . I thought maybe she just didnt hear me," the grey tom murmured softly, flicking his ears as he finished getting all of the webs off his paw.

"Nope," Rookpaw shrugged and watched Stormpaw as he dropped back down to all fours. "She was definitely ignoring you."

"Why would she do that . . . ?" Stormpaw fixed Rookpaw with a skeptical gaze. _He's probably just saying that to freak me out,_ he told himself, though he'd always heard that Rookpaw was the most serious of Cindertalon's three kits.

"Stormpaw, if you're finished, please leave," Rowanspots called, irritation sneaking its way into her tone. "You too, Rookpaw. Icepaw needs to concentrate before we leave for Starfalls."

Stormpaw quickly shut his mouth and retreated from the den. He could sense Rookpaw close on his tail, and hoped the older apprentice wouldn't bring up the idea of his mother ignoring him again. Luckily, the black-furred cat seemed to pick up on his wishes.

"You know," Rookpaw spoke up, tilting his head, "if you don't have anything else to do, I could show you a few hunting stances that Sandfoot taught me. That way, you can impress Wrenfeather when he starts your lessons."

"Woah, really?" Stormpaw felt his spirit lift at the idea of impressing his mentor. 

Rookpaw nodded a bit in response. "Of course, I don't really have anything else to do right now."

Stormpaw grew excited as Rookpaw led him to a patch of grass outside of the apprentices' den. Pine needles were often swept away from this spot, which was a nice contrast to how the earth just outside of the den was covered with a thick layer of russet-colored needles.

When Rookpaw dropped into a seemingly-expert hunting crouch, Stormpaw sat and watched him intently. He noted how the older apprentice kept his muscles taut the entire time, as if always prepared to leap onto unsuspecting prey. He became so engrossed in the demonstration that he hardly heard his sister approach them.

"Hi Rookpaw!" Silverpaw chirped happily, startling Stormpaw. "Stormpaw, did you finish your assignment? The elders hardly had me do anything—just like Cricketpaw said!"

"Yeah, Rowanspots didn't need much help," Stormpaw mewed, noticing a hint of admiration in his sister's tone when she mentioned their denmate. "Rookpaw said he'd show me some of the hunting moves he's learned so far." 

"No way! Really?" Silverpaw gasped and turned her blue gaze to Rookpaw, who had paused his demonstration. "That's so cool!" Stormpaw nodded quickly, his feelings matching hers.

"You can watch, too, Silverpaw," Rookpaw offered kind-heartedly as he prepared his stance again.

"Sure!" Silverpaw blurted out before silencing herself and settling next to Stormpaw. Stormpaw held his breath in anticipation as he watched Rookpaw's next demonstration. He held his body close to the earth, yet stayed just high enough so that his fur and belly hovered over the smallest blades of grass. His tail stuck out behind him as he started gliding forward smoothly.

Suddenly, he pounced on a stray twig and tossed it high up into the air. His mock prey flew way up, curved at the peak of the toss, and fell beyond the walls of the camp. Stormpaw snorted in amusement when he saw how satisfied Rookpaw looked by the result of his toss. _What is he trying to do with that move, catch fish?_ he thought mirthfully. 

Rookpaw fell into another stance quickly, and as he did so, Stormpaw noticed Cricketpaw and Wasppaw enter the camp behind their mentors. Dovesong led them, her long tail trailing lazily behind her. Next to her was Mistypool, who looked winded from their patrol, yet carried several pieces of prey in her jaws.

Cricketpaw seemed to waste no time in approaching the group of apprentices. As he neared, Stormpaw noticed that he held a sizable squirrel in his jaws—the catch nearly weighed the brown tabby down.

"Hey, Silverpaw!" Cricketpaw mumbled around the fur of his prey. "I caught this huge squirrel today! Dovesong said I could have it, but it's a bit too much for me. Wanna share?"

Next to Stormpaw, Silverpaw immediately jumped to her paws. "That's the biggest squirrel I've ever seen!" she exclaimed, not seeming to register his offer at first. When she did, she quickly added, "I'd love to have some. Thanks, Cricketpaw!"

Stormpaw watched his sister trot away with Cricketpaw to find a spot to eat. Once they chose a spot, he turned back to Rookpaw excitedly. If Wrenfeather was showing him the territory, he might get a hunting lesson, too, and he _really_ wanted to impress his mentor.

"Do you have any other cool stances to show me?"


	4. Tour of the Land (03)

Silverpaw bounced excitedly as she waited near the camp entrance with Stormpaw. Wrenfeather stood in the center of the camp, assigning the last few cats their duties as the morning sun warmed the clearing. Silverpaw couldn't keep her eyes off the deputy or her mentor beside him.

Next to her, Stormpaw stood rigid with his expression serious. The silver molly could see a shimmer of excitement in his jade eyes, though, and resisted the urge to nudge her brother playfully. Stormpaw always expressed his emotions in his own, reserved ways and as they grew older Silverpaw learned to be happy with it.

Soon enough, their mentors approached them. Wrenfeather led them wordlessly out of the camp, while Cindertalon fell into step next to the golden-brown tom. Silverpaw tried to hold back her awe as the two warriors silently padded through their forested home, the tall ferns brushing against their shoulders—and against her own muzzle. 

Wrenfeather finally spoke as they stopped just outside a small clearing west of the camp. "This is the western border of our land, and this clearing is where Twolegs come during the hottest parts of greenleaf. We have to be very careful during this time, because they'll bring their dogs and set them loose into the forest."

"Are dogs really that dangerous?" Silverpaw asked as a sense of foreboding creeped along her spine. Cindertalon's expression grew grim, though he kept his thoughts to himself as Wrenfeather continued with a nod.

"Almost every greenleaf, one of our warriors gets injured by a dog—or they get injured fleeing from one. Luckily for you two, the Twolegs never show up this late into the season." 

As Wrenfeather took up a steady pace again, leading the two apprentices south along the borderlines, Silverpaw glanced back at the clearing in awe. She noticed how Stormpaw tensed beside her at Wrenfeather's words, but didn't say anything about it. _Maybe the stories of the dog attacks are the scariest to him,_ Silverpaw thought with a sideways glance at him.

"Beyond this border is SwiftClan territory," Cindertalon announced when they paused again. Silverpaw peered around him and looked over the vast moorlands that stretched before them. Marshes spotted the lowest points of the land, the muddy waters noticeably high, even for a new apprentice like her.

"Usually during border patrols, we might spot a few of their warriors racing along the hilltops, or even helping a traveling outsider out of the patches of swampland." Wrenfeather swept his tail toward the muddy sections as he spoke.

"They just . . . run?" Stormpaw let out a confused mew, and when Silverpaw looked at him, she saw his gaze searching for evidence of his mentor's claims.

Cindertalon shot both of the apprentices a meaningful glance. "Not everyone has the same pastimes as us, Stormpaw. They say it helps them stay in good shape."

When Stormpaw shut his mouth in embarrassment, Silverpaw glanced at the marshes curiously. "Is someone always getting stuck in the swamps?"

_"Only new apprentices who stray over the border."_

Around a bend in the forest, a new patrol appeared, full of cats Silverpaw didn't recognize. A striking golden tabby molly led it, followed closely by a brown tabby tom and a tortoiseshell molly. The second she-cat trailed her amber gaze over Silverpaw and her Clanmates, as if she was searching for something.

"Greetings, Goldenflame," Wrenfeather called out warmly. "How's Turtlepelt doing?"

"Oh, she's doing quite well, Wren," the leader of the patrol called back, her tone just as friendly as the NightClan deputy. "How's our dear sister, Dovesong? I haven't seen her at a Gathering for a few moons."

Silverpaw started at that. _'_ _Our sister?' Wrenfeather has a sister in another Clan?_ She exchanged a glance with Stormpaw, who looked nearly as taken aback as she felt. In front of her, Wrenfeather sat down as he fell into conversation with the SwiftClan cats.

"Dovesong is just as well—she's been a bit caught up lately, what with a new apprentice and her attempts to urge Mistypool and Daisynose into the elders' den."

The molly, Goldenflame, let out a scoff. _"Elders._ Goosepounce decided to retire just a few sunrises ago, but Ashwhisker is dragging her paws on it. I swear, at this rate, we'll have more elders than fresh warriors!"

"No new kits?" Wrenfeather's gaze traveled to the tortoiseshell molly, his ears perking curiously. Silverpaw followed his gaze and saw that she was still searching the forest line behind them. "Sandfoot isn't on patrols today, Sorrelfrost."

While Sorrelfrost looked embarrassed, Silverpaw felt even more shocked. _Sandfoot and Sorrelfrost, a SwiftClan warrior? And they're talking about it so openly! Stormpaw told me the elders would talk bad about these kinds of relationships!_ She snuck another glance toward her brother and realized that this was all news to him, as well. Stormpaw's green eyes were stretched wide with surprise as he watched his mentor—the deputy—make conversation with the other Clan.

The brown tabby tom next to the other SwiftClan cats looked amused at Wrenfeather's comment. "Vinestar and I have been talking about having our own kits, but most of our mollies are a bit busy chasing after toms from other Clans." He let out a loud laugh as Sorrelfrost swiped at him playfully.

"Well, I'd love to catch up some more," Wrenfeather mewed as he rose to his paws suddenly, "but Cindertalon and I have to show the new apprentices the territory. Safe travels, Goldenflame, and be careful around the marshes—the waters look high even though it's nearly leaf-fall." 

As Wrenfeather led the patrol further along the border, and as the SwiftClan patrol vanished out of sight, Stormpaw trotted forward a few paces. Silverpaw heard him mumble something about the elders before he spoke up, addressing his mentor.

"Half-Clan relationships are just . . . discussed like that?" Silverpaw padded forward to catch up to her brother and saw that he was deep in thought as he spoke.

When he got a response, Silverpaw's mentor spoke instead of Wrenfeather. "The Clans are all at peace with each other," Cindertalon mewed, his deep voice echoing softly off the trees. "After the Great War, relationships between Clans blossomed alongside the newfound peace. After a while, the overseer of MistClan—which was Spottedpath—proposed a change to our code; this led to cats being able to have mates in other Clans, as long as the two Clans weren't currently at war, and as long as they didn't cause issues over the potential kits."

"What if they _do_ cause issues over the kits?" Silverpaw asked quietly, amazed by the ways the Clans had changed over the seasons. _That must be why the elders feel differently—they were alive back then, that was_ their _normal!_

"We'll find out when we get there," Wrenfeather spoke up this time, flicking his tail. "Nobody has caused issues yet. My father had two mates himself, one in SwiftClan, and everyone seemed pretty satisfied by the outcome of things. BlazeClan even has a cat who left RushClan to be with her father, but it was a non-issue, really."

Cindertalon looked thoughtful for a moment, glancing at the two apprentices that followed them. "Occasionally, one won't know their father. Mollies are allowed to keep it a secret no matter who the father is, but that's usually because he was a r—"

"We're currently moving past the Gathering Stones," Wrenfeather interrupted his patrol partner with a pointed glance, though Silverpaw noticed it quickly. Stormpaw nudged her slightly, letting her know that he had seen it, as well. "Beyond this is our border with RushClan, part of which is marked by the river itself. Keep your eyes peeled, because you might see one of them fishing along the river or even swimming in it."

"Swimming?" Stormpaw made a face while Silverpaw shuddered at the thought. "I can't even imagine."

"Well, it's kinda cool," Silverpaw mumbled after she considered the idea. "Wasppaw even said that they have webbed toes! That makes them pretty special."

"Why don't you ask one of them at the next Gathering, then?" Wrenfeather chuckled with a sly glance at the siblings. "We don't often meet their patrols."

"Wait, the _next_ Gathering?" Silverpaw leapt forward happily at the idea. "You mean we get to go?"

"Of course." Wrenfeather paused dramatically before he continued speaking. "That is, if your training goes well. You've got a little under a half moon to convince me, so don't goof off, you two."

Stormpaw remained silent next to Silverpaw, but when she looked at him she could see a glint of determination in his eyes. She felt worried herself—they hadn't even started their training yet, and she didn't know how they could meet Wrenfeather's expectations so soon. Despite her doubts, Silverpaw decided to accept Wrenfeather's challenge. 

Once he saw that the two younger cats had been satisfied, Wrenfeather continued describing the territory to them. "If you follow this river north, you'll find Starfalls, the sacred spot where medicine cats can try to speak to StarClan." They'd come across the river that marked the northern half of the RushClan border, and Silverpaw noticed that the air carried a hint of freshness to it. "Every apprentice must make the trip to Starfalls before their warrior ceremony, as well."

"Do warrior apprentices dream like the medicine cats do?" Silverpaw asked, mystified by the thought of speaking to their ancestors. 

"Only rarely," Wrenfeather responded with a muffled laugh. "StarClan hasn't even been talking to the medicine cats so much lately."

Wrenfeather fell silent as he continued to lead the patrol through their territory, marking the borders appropriately and instructing the apprentices as they traveled. Once they returned to camp, it was about sunhigh, and Silverpaw could see the next patrol gathering near the camp entrance. Dawnstrike was with them, alongside Ferrettail, Falconpaw, and Newtsplash. The spiky-furred, tortoisehell-tabby molly looked all too happy to be participating in warrior duties with her own kits as apprentices.

Silverpaw recognized the dark silver-and-white fur of her mother and bounced toward her happily. _She'll be so excited to hear that me and Stormpaw can go to a Gathering already!_ she thought, her fur prickling from her happiness.

"Hey, mom!" she chirped as she neared Mintwillow. "Wrenfeather said we get to go to the next Gathering if we train hard enough!"

"Oh yeah?" Mintwillow responded gently, though her green eyes looked distant. "That's nice, darling. You should get to training, though—the Gathering isn't too far away."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Silverpaw murmured as her excitement ebbed away quickly. Something about her mother's distance seemed off to her, but she shrugged it off after a moment. "Cindertalon hasn't even started my training though—"

"Actually, Wrenfeather just gave me the day off to start showing you some moves." Cindertalon's deep voice startled Silverpaw as he approached her.

"Woah, really?" Silverpaw spun to face her mentor, bouncing excitedly as the news made her spirits perk up. "Awesome!" She turned around again to say her farewells to her mother, only to notice that she'd vanished, leaving a half-eaten mole by the fresh-kill pile. _Maybe she misses being in the nursery with us,_ Silverpaw thought curiously when Cindertalon started leading her back out of the camp. _Or maybe she was busy._

Cindertalon didn't waste any time as he veered onto a worn-down path that led to the training grounds. Silverpaw followed him closely, noticing how seasons of paw prints had been molded into the earth beneath her. Up ahead, she heard the voice of Dovesong, who sounded painfully exasperated with what must have been a sparring match between apprentices.

"No, Cricketpaw, swipe _under_ him when he does that move! No, no, not like that!" 

Silverpaw could imagine the grey tabby's frustrated expression as her voice echoed out of the clearing ahead of her. She paused beside her mentor just outside of the moss-covered clearing and saw that Cricketpaw was pinned beneath Rookpaw. Their mentors, Dovesong and Sandfoot, were both watching over them from the sidelines.

With a glance back at Silverpaw and a beckoning flick of his tail, Cindertalon padded into the clearing with a phantom-like silence. "Perhaps Cricketpaw could use a newer apprentice as a sparring partner."

Silverpaw noticed how both of the warriors jumped at her mentor's sudden appearance, while Rookpaw seemed unphased by his father's inherent stealthiness. After recovering from his surprise, Sandfoot glanced at the newcomers and inspected Silverpaw from a distance.

"That might be best," the pale orange tom murmured thoughtfully. "Rookpaw's assessment isn't far away now—this next Gathering may very well be his last as an apprentice. He's leagues ahead of the newer apprentices."

"It's settled then." Cindertalon stole a glance at Rookpaw and Silverpaw noticed a hint of pride flash across his gaze. "Perhaps we should demonstrate a few moves first—This is Silverpaw's first training session."

"Have you even taught her the warrior code yet, Cindertalon?" Dovesong mewed teasingly, her green gaze intent on Silverpaw. There was the tiniest presence of skepticism, and it made Silverpaw's fur crawl as she grew self-conscious. _Dovesong is right, shouldn't he be teaching me that stuff first?_

"Relax, Dovesong," Cindertalon rolled his eyes a bit at the older molly. "Wrenfeather and I just took her and Stormpaw on a tour of the borders. I figured she could use something a little more exciting after all that walking."

"Alright, have it your way. Sandfoot and I will demonstrate—Silverpaw, pay close attention."

Sandfoot stepped into the center of the clearing with Dovesong and they quickly fell into fighting stances. Silverpaw noticed how their paws were spread to evenly distribute their balance and weight, and how their eyes never left one another. Suddenly, Dovesong pounced at Sandfoot and wrestled him until he was pinned against the mossy floor. Sandfoot quickly raised his hindlegs and kicked against her belly, sending the grey molly off of him.

Silverpaw leaned forward, anticipating their next moves with bated breath. She jumped a bit as Sandfoot rushed forward and hooked himself on Dovesong's back, his paws tight around her shoulders while she struggled to shake him loose. Suddenly, she went limp, almost as if she were dead. Then, she wriggled easily out of Sandfoot's grasp and gave him a gentle prod at his throat, signifying her victory.

"Did you catch all that?" Dovesong asked, turning to the silver apprentice.

"Um . . . I think so," Silverpaw mewed hesitantly, trying to remember each step the warriors had taken.

"Dovesong, that was more than one move," Cindertalon criticized her gently. "It'd be better to start with the second one you demonstrated, since it was the last one she saw—where Sandfoot leaped onto your back. Silverpaw, try that move with Cricketpaw. Usually the smaller apprentice would leap onto the larger one, but you're both about the same height already . . . ."

"Are you calling me small?" Cricketpaw spoke up, shooting Silverpaw a playful glance as her mentor spoke.

"No, he's got a point. Silverpaw and Stormpaw have both grown pretty quickly, and they're about your size already despite being two moons younger." Sandfoot murmured thoughtfully from where he stood.

"Enough." Dovesong stepped back to the bordering undergrowth with a roll of her eyes. Silverpaw thought she could see a hint of amusement hiding beneath the molly's annoyance. "Silverpaw, see if you can't wriggle yourself out of Cricketpaw's grasp."

With an unsure glance at her own mentor, Silverpaw nodded and stepped forward to face Cricketpaw. The older brown tabby gave her an encouraging nod before rushing forward and tricking her with a false swipe. Then, he hooked himself onto her shoulders the same way Sandfoot did to Dovesong. Silverpaw hesitated as she tried to recall how the grey tabby had moved to get out of his grip.

While she hesitated, however, Cricketpaw's grip seemed to tighten. Silverpaw felt her heartbeat pick up a few paces, and she started breathing quickly as she struggled in his grip in an attempt to break free. It felt like her heart was about to beat right out of her chest, and her vision became disoriented in her panic.

"Stop!" Cindertalon called out, his voice suddenly deafening to Silverpaw. "Cricketpaw, let go—Silverpaw, focus on me."

As the weight vanished from Silverpaw's shoulders, she took a few deep breaths and glanced at her mentor shamefully. _I totally failed that, didn't I?_ When she met Cindertalon's amber gaze, she could see he only looked concerned and confused, not ashamed of her.

"Silverpaw, why did you panic?"

"W-Well I was trying to think—"

"Then you thought _too_ much—don't overthink this," Cindertalon cut her off as if he knew what she was going to say. "Just let your body react naturally. Let's try this again, but reverse the roles. Pay attention to how Cricketpaw frees himself, and remember, no claws."

Silverpaw nodded to Cindertalon and turned to face her denmate once again. She was painfully aware of the fact that everyone's attention was trained on her, but when she saw the reassurance in Cricketpaw's expression, she managed to put it out of her mind. Silverpaw ran toward him, darting behind him and leaping onto his back quickly.

The molly fastened her forelegs around Cricketpaw's shoulders, careful not to actually restrict his breathing at all. The brown tabby tom was quick to let himself fall limp, and Silverpaw noticed how easily he broke free even when she moved her paws to regain control. Once Cricketpaw stepped away, Cindertalon gave an approving nod.

"Okay, now try it again the first way," he ordered gently.

With a deep breath and a nod, Silverpaw took up a defensive stance. She watched Cricketpaw as he took a leap forward and ducked behind her. This time, when he fastened his paws around her shoulders, Silverpaw quickly thought over the technique. _Let your body go limp, tricking the opponent into letting go,_ she told herself as she shut her eyes and let herself go limp. _Free yourself._ Silverpaw slid her body downwards and out of Cricketpaw's grip. Then she twisted her body and went for a finishing move, managing to pin Cricketpaw to the mossy earth gently.

"Sloppy, but much better," Cindertalon praised her warmly. "With practice, you'll be sure to perfect it."

"I hope so," Silverpaw murmured as she let Cricketpaw up, happy that she earned her mentor's approval. The apprentice she had sparred with looked proud, his amber eyes shining radiantly in the midday sunlight. "Should I keep practicing with Cricketpaw?"

Cindertalon looked thoughtful to the idea for a moment before he shook his head. "No, come over this way. I wanna take some time to show you some more beginner-friendly moves and tricks." With a sweeping motion of his tail, Cindertalon led the apprentice to a more secluded spot in the moss-strewn clearing and started to show her the basics of warrior combat.


	5. Building Resentment (04)

Stormpaw stretched his muscles as he padded to face Wasppaw in the middle of the moss-covered training clearing. Silverpaw and Cricketpaw were sparring nearby, and Cindertalon was watching over them closely. His narrowed, amber eyes burned into Stormpaw's pelt momentarily, and the apprentice acted as if he didn't notice it. At the far end of the clearing, Rookpaw and Falconpaw were training with Ferrettail. The brown-and-white warrior's commanding voice rang out over the clearing, nearly distracting Stormpaw from his own task.

Though, it wasn't like he was finding it easy to concentrate in the first place. He was  _ supposed _ to be sparring with Wasppaw to practice the new moves he'd been learning. Instead, he found himself dwelling on his anger toward his mother. A few sunrises before the extensive training session, Stormpaw had seen her give Silverpaw the same treatment she'd been giving him. The grey-furred apprentice dug his claws into the moss beneath him as he remembered exactly what he had witnessed.

_ "Hey, mother, guess what I did today!" Silverpaw had mewed excitedly. Stormpaw perked up from where he sat outside the elders' den and pressed beneath a nearby creeping root. Once he was sure his sister wouldn't see him, he peeked out of his hiding spot to watch their mother's behavior. _

_ "What is it, dear?" Mintwillow responded quietly—distantly. Stormpaw looked closer and saw that her green eyes weren't even focused on Silverpaw. Instead, they were fixated on the thin air just over the young molly's shoulder. _

_ "I caught my first squirrel today!" Silverpaw bounced a bit as she said it, her tail even fluffier than usual from her excitement. "Cindertalon said those can be tricky because they climb trees." _

_ "Hm." Mintwillow grunted, hardly seeming to register her daughter's words. "That's nice, darling." _

_ Without another word, the dark silver tabby had pushed past Silverpaw to grab from the fresh-kill pile, and then she carried a thrush to the edge of the clearing—far from her children—and sat to eat it. Stormpaw narrowed his eyes as he saw Silverpaw's tail droop, and her ears fell back, but the movements were brief. She recovered quickly and glanced around to see if anyone had witnessed the exchange and, when she saw nobody, she trotted to the apprentices' den. _

A harsh shove from Wasppaw brought Stormpaw back to the present. He met the older apprentice's green gaze and saw how impatient he looked as he tried to start their sparring match.

"Come  _ on, _ Stormpaw," the golden tom hissed at him. "Have you got dandelion fuzz for brains? We're here to spar, not daydream."

Stormpaw rolled his eyes and quickly stepped into the motions of the training he'd learned over his first half-moon as an apprentice. He side-stepped around Wasppaw's outstretched paw, lashed out his own unsheathed paw to check the golden-speckled tom in the shoulder. 

While Stormpaw recalled the training he'd received from Wrenfeather, Wasppaw became relentless with his own moves. Several times he struck out so powerfully that he pushed Stormpaw backwards a few whisker-lengths. With each pushy blow, Stormpaw could feel his anger toward his mother converting into a vexation toward his mentor's son. The final straw was when Wasppaw aimed a blow at his ear and missed, swiping him across the muzzle instead. Even though his claws were sheathed, the force of it made Stormpaw's nose burn.

"Cut it out!" he hissed loudly, lashing out at Wasppaw. Too late, he realized that he had unsheathed his claws, drawing a bit of blood on the other apprentice's cheek.

"You cut it out!" Wasppaw snarled, and Stormpaw flinched as he felt a searing pain across his nose. Wasppaw had clawed Stormpaw back, and was glaring at him, his green eyes narrowed and his tail lashing.

Suddenly, Stormpaw was launching himself at Wasppaw, and the two toms flung their claws at each other in a flurry of mutual anger. His resentment pushed him forward, and he tumbled with Wasppaw in a hissing tangle of fur and flying paws.

"Break it up, you two!" Cindertalon's voice rang through the clearing, but Stormpaw barely took notice of it. He kept flinging his paws at Wasppaw, who returned the blows twice as hard, not seeming to pay attention to the warrior's order.

Before Stormpaw knew what was happening, Ferrettail had shoved himself between the two apprentices, easily batting their paws away from him. Stormpaw stumbled back and met Ferrettail's harsh gaze boldly, not wanting to cower in front of the other apprentices. Wasppaw, on the other hand, quickly knelt to the ground before the warrior.

"What is wrong with you two?" Ferrettail hissed quietly to them, his forest-green eyes glittering with anger. 

"Wasppaw started it!" Stormpaw shot back quickly, meeting Ferrettail's gaze without flinching. "He kept shoving me backwards while we were sparring!"

"So you bare your claws to him?" Ferrettail took a step forward to tower over Stormpaw, and when Stormpaw refused to back down, he could have sworn he saw a flicker of understanding in his eyes.

By now, Cindertalon had stepped forward, his expression even harsher than Ferrettail's. "We've been monitoring rogue activity for moons, and now you two do this? We can't afford to have our apprentices fighting each other with bared claws, wasting Rowanspots' precious herbs. If it happens again, I'll make sure Wrenfeather finds out, and neither of you will go to the Gathering."

"Yes, Cindertalon," Wasppaw murmured apologetically. 

Stormpaw opened his mouth to utter a fury-fueled retort but quickly closed it again when he saw Cindertalon's withering glare. Instead, he simply glared back at his sister's mentor before turning to meet Silverpaw's gaze. She and Cricketpaw had stopped to watch the fight break out, and while Cricketpaw looked purely concerned, Stormpaw caught a glimpse of lingering pain in Silverpaw's eyes. As soon as they locked gazes, though, the emotion vanished and she turned to Cricketpaw, murmuring something to him.

While Stormpaw couldn't make out exactly what she said, he could hear the friendly and carefree tone she took on when speaking to their denmate. He felt his heart twist at the sound of it, thinking of how their mother had driven her into putting up those walls so fast.  _ I'll make sure you never have to feel hurt like that again, _ Stormpaw thought angrily, clawing at the a patch of moss beneath him.

"Stormpaw, did you hear me?" Cindertalon's voice broke into his thoughts, demanding his attention. "Apologize to Wasppaw." Stormpaw scoffed and glanced around. When he did, he saw that Ferrettail had already returned to the far side of the clearing to train Falconpaw and Rookpaw. Briefly, he caught the warrior's eye, and decided to listen to Cindertalon.

"I'm sorry, Wasppaw," Stormpaw muttered reluctantly. "I wasn't trying to hurt you."

"It's fine," Wasppaw responded with an embarrassed sigh. "I shouldn't have been so rough, either."

The two toms hesitantly fell back into their sparring match, each of them making sure to be more gentle than before. Even though he tried to concentrate, Stormpaw couldn't seem to rid his mind of his worries. After a while, Ferrettail brought Rookpaw and Falconpaw over to participate, and then pulled Stormpaw aside.

"What's eating at you, kit?" Ferrettail mewed softly once they were both out of earshot. He sat up against the edge of the mossy clearing, his tail curled stiffly around his paws as he watched Stormpaw expectantly. Stormpaw returned a wary gaze as he considered his answer.

"Nothing," he mumbled after a moment of consideration. "I just had a bad morning, and Wasppaw pushed it."

"Cats don't usually start fights over a bad morning," Ferrettail shot back smoothly, shooting Stormpaw a sideways glance.

"I do, apparently," Stormpaw retorted with a roll of his eyes. He knew he was behaving ridiculous, but he couldn't help it. Without realizing, Stormpaw let his gaze stray to where Silverpaw had started training with the other apprentices. Rookpaw and Falconpaw were showing them all more advanced moves, and he could tell that his sister was pushing herself harder than ever.

"Did something happen with your sister?" Stormpaw started when Ferrettail spoke to him. He tore his gaze from Silverpaw and met Ferrettail's curious green eyes.

"No," he mewed guardedly. Stormpaw didn't miss how the warrior next to him eyed him at his response, though there were no further questions.

"Alright, then." Ferrettail stood with a shrug and nodded to the training apprentices. "If you decide you want a less judgmental ear, you know where to find me, kit. Go on back to your training."

Stormpaw gave Ferrettail one last uncertain glance before returning to train with the other apprentices. He fell into training with them, learning new moves from the older two toms and practicing them with his denmates while Cindertalon and Ferrettail watched over them. By the time they were finished, the sun hung far overhead, and every one of them was worn out.

As Cindertalon and Ferrettail led them back to the NightClan camp, Stormpaw found himself struggling to catch his breath. Silverpaw looked to be in the same position as him, her chest heaving and her steps short, as though her muscles were already sore. Cricketpaw and Wasppaw looked to be in only slightly better shape, while Rookpaw and Falconpaw seemed entirely unbothered by the long training session.

Once they were all inside the camp, Cindetalon turned to the six apprentices and flicked the tip of his tail. "You can all go eat. Falconpaw and Rookpaw, you two are scheduled to feed the elders tonight."

Cindertalon hardly wasted any time before fetching himself a piece of prey and joining Sandfoot in the shade of an overhanging root. Ferrettail had vanished somewhere along the way without drawing attention, but Stormpaw barely paid attention to the fact. Now that he knew so many cats would so openly discuss half-Clan relationships, he figured that behavior like that—cats slipping away at the back of a patrol, and returning to camp later—was simply a weak attempt to hide it.

At the far edge of the clearing, outside of the warriors' den, he saw Mintwillow sitting with Newtsplash and Dovesong. The three mollies were chatting casually to each other, and the sight made Stormpaw's blood boil.  _ So she can act normal with her friends, but not with us?  _ he thought furiously, tearing his claws into the soft earth beneath him.  _ We're her children! How could she do this so suddenly? _ Stormpaw turned away from the three mollies angrily, staring down at his dark grey-striped paws while his denmated bounded toward the fresh-kill pile.

"What, did your mother tell you to clean the elders' bedding or something?"

Stormpaw nearly jumped two tail-lengths into the air when Ferrettail spoke up behind him. He turned around to face the warrior and saw that his fur was still ruffled from nosing his way through the entrance to the camp.

"That's not it," Stormpaw mewed slowly as he eyed Ferrettail. Briefly, he wondered why the warrior was showing so much interest in his issues.

"What is it, then?" Ferrettail pressed, glancing toward Mintwillow briefly. "You know, normally a cat doesn't just look at their parent with a glare that could cut through fur."

Stormpaw held his green gaze for a few moments and finally caved, letting out a sigh. "She's been cold to us ever since we became apprentices. A few sunrises ago, I saw her completely brush Silverpaw off after being told about a good catch. Silverpaw looked so hurt, and I just . . . I don't know. It made me really mad."

"Oh, I get it now," Ferrettail murmured softly. "You couldn't care less if it were only you, but your sister is hurt from this, too. You wanna protect her."

"Why are you so interested, anyways?" Stormpaw queried, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. "You're not my mentor or anything."

"Well, I don't see your mentor inviting himself to ask," Ferrettail retorted with a laugh. "Besides, I understand more than you might realize, Stormpaw."

"Maybe he isn't, but he's the deputy!" Stormpaw hissed softly, glaring at the warrior next to him.  _ Wrenfeather shouldn't have to pry into my life just because he's my mentor! _

"A cat can multitask, you know." Ferrettail relaxed visibly as he let his gaze roam the clearing, as if he were looking for Wrenfeather. When he didn't see the golden-brown tom, he continued, "Besides, what does he do, assign a few patrols and order a couple cats around the camp?"

At first, Stormpaw felt taken aback by his bluntness, then he reconsidered. "But . . . won't he become the leader someday, after my uncle is gone? That seems pretty important to me."

"Sure, maybe it is, but this is  _ now." _ As Ferrettail held Stormpaw's gaze, the apprentice felt like his soul was being searched. "Even then, a leader is nothing without his warriors."

"Hey, Fer, over here! Come on!" Dawnstrike called from across the clearing, a mouse hanging by its tail from her jaws.

"Patience, Dawn, I was just having a word with Stormpaw." At that, Ferrettail rose to his paws and nodded a farewell to the long-furred apprentice. He padded away from Stormpaw and met Dawnstrike, who seemed happy to see her Clanmate. With a bit of a start, Stormpaw realized that it was the first time he'd ever seen Dawnstrike without her being frighteningly angry.

Once Ferrettail stood near the cream molly, Stormpaw saw him whisper something to her. Dawnstrike shot a glance at the apprentice afterward, and when he caught it he didn't see any of the usual distaste within her piercing green eyes. Instead, there was a deep interest within them. Stormpaw held her gaze for a moment before shrugging and finally making his way toward the fresh-kill pile. A short ways away from the apprentices' den, he saw Rookpaw sitting alone, so he picked up a small thrush and padded over.

"Mind if I eat here?" Stormpaw mewed quietly, noticing how Rookpaw's gaze seemed distant.

"Go for it," Rookpaw responded, nodding to the spot beside him. After Stormpaw sat, he shifted and murmured, "Is your mother still ignoring you?" When he turned to meet the younger apprentice's gaze, Stormpaw could see a hint of curiosity, though for some reason he felt like he wasn't supposed to.

"Yeah . . . it's just– I don't know. I don't understand." Stormpaw let out a heavy sigh as he started picking at his thrush. Not far away, a flash of pale silvery fur caught his eye; Silverpaw was eating alone, her blue eyes troubled. As Stormpaw's anger resurfaced, he dug his claws into the earth near his meal, disturbing the layer of old pine needles.  _ Maybe I should go sit with her. _

"I'm sure it'll explain itself in time." Rookpaw shifted again, as if he were trying to get comfortable. "If it doesn't, you don't need her. You'll make better relationships over time."

"Is it that simple?" Stormpaw tore his gaze from his sister and took another bite of his food.  _ Would it be that easy for her, too? _

"I wouldn't know," Rookpaw responded with a shrug. "I'm sure it's gotta be hard, but don't let yourself get too angry over it. I'm know not as educated in the Clan beliefs as the rest of you, but the elders always told me of a darker place near StarClan. They said when you let your anger fester, dark cats will visit you in your dreams and make you evil."

"You believe that?" Stormpaw scoffed at him as he finished his thrush. "Those are just stories they tell us so that we'll behave, you know."

"I don't see why I shouldn't believe it. If you have StarClan, why shouldn't there be an afterlife for the evil cats, too?" 

"I guess you have a point." Stormpaw glanced toward the elders' den, where he saw Lynxtail, Warblerwing, and Snailbelly laying in a patch of sun. Vinecrawl was nowhere to be seen, and he assumed she must be inside their den. "Speaking of the elders, how come you and Falconpaw had to take them food today? Usually that's my job, or Silverpaw's."

"Maybe it was some kind of final duty assignment, since our assessments are coming up." Rookpaw glanced around and Stormpaw followed his gaze, noticing Falconpaw with their sister, Icepaw.

"Do you think you'll pass?" At the mention of the assessment, Stormpaw wondered what it could involve. 

"Most apprentices do," Rookpaw mumbled with a matter-of-factly tone.

"Sure, but do you think  _ you _ will?" Stormpaw pressed curiously. He was sure the quiet tom would pass—Rookpaw was one of the best hunters even though he was still an apprentice. Even the warriors constantly praised him, though Stormpaw had overheard a few of them admitting they were unsettled by how he managed to sneak up on the rest of them so often.

"Of course he will," Falconpaw boasted as he padded up. Stormpaw glanced at him and saw how muscular the dark grey tom was compared to his brother. He glanced to where he had just seen the him speaking to Icepaw, and saw that the grey-and-white molly was watching her brothers.

"Sandfoot says we shouldn't doubt ourselves," Rookpaw added quickly, though he looked indifferent to the entire conversation.

Stormpaw fell silent as he considered that.  _ That's a good point, _ he thought to himself after a moment.  _ If we doubt ourselves we could be more likely to trip up—or start fights. _ While he was silently cursing himself—and admiring the older apprentices—Stormpaw barely noticed that Wrenfeather had approached. It wasn't until Falconpaw stood to leave with Rookpaw on his tail that he noticed his mentor.

"Stormpaw." Wrenfeather's serious voice startled Stormpaw, and when he turned to his mentor he saw disappointment burning in his eyes.

"Wrenfeather?" He sat up a bit taller when he addressed Wrenfeather, anticipating his next words. 

"I heard what happened with Wasppaw. Is everything alright?"

Stormpaw's ears burned with shame when his mentor brought up the fight, though his tone was much softer than he expected. "U-Um, yeah, everything's fine," he stammered slowly as he sat upright.

"Then why would you unsheathe your claws during training?" Wrenfeather sat down and, while he looked and sounded calm, Stormpaw didn't miss how the tip of his tail bobbed behind him. "I know you haven't been an apprentice for long, but I'm certain I've taught you better."

With each word, Stormpaw grew more and more ashamed of himself. "Wasppaw was being too aggressive—"

"That doesn't excuse it," Wrenfeather snapped quickly before composing himself. "Look, I can see that you're having a hard time right now, and I won't pry, but next time you need to keep your cool."

"Yes, Wrenfeather," Stormpaw murmured softly, bowing his head to the dappled golden-brown tom. After a moment of silence, he tentatively added, "Does this mean I can't go to the Gathering?"

"Huh?" Wrenfeather looked surprised by the question as his expression softened. "No, no. You can still go; you and your sister have both progressed enough to earn it."

"R-Really? Awesome!" Stormpaw brightened at the idea of going to his first Gathering, and meeting the apprentices of the other Clans. "Thank you, Wrenfeather!"

"Don't thank me just yet." Wrenfeather narrowed his eyes and gave Stormpaw one final, half-scolding glare. "If you get into another fight, you'll be on elder duties for a moon."

"Don't give your apprentice such a hard time, Wrennie. We both know that Wasppaw can be a bit much, even for us." As Stormpaw nodded diligently, Newtsplash padded up with a squirrel hanging from her jaws. She waved her fluffy tail at Stormpaw, and he quickly nodded a greeting to his mentor's mate. Wrenfeather gave a defeated sigh as she quickly won him over, and as the two warriors padded away, Stormpaw remembered that Newtsplash and his own mother were friends.  _ I wonder if she knows why my mom is acting how she is,  _ he thought just before he caught her sympathetic eye.  _ She definitely knows something. _

Instead of dwelling on it more, Stormpaw rose and padded to where Silverpaw sat. If he couldn't make their mom acknowledge them again, then he'd at least make sure Silverpaw was doing okay.


	6. An Unusual Gathering (05)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silverpaw and Stormpaw get to experience their first Gathering, and it takes a turn for the worst. Their uncle ends the meeting prematurely, and back at their camp, things only continue to to escalate, leaving Silverpaw dazed and afraid.

Silverpaw trotted excitedly beside Stormpaw as they were led to the Gathering. At the front of the group, Thistlestar set a calm pace with Wrenfeather, Rowanspots, and Icepaw at his flanks. Shortly in front of the two apprentices were Cindertalon, Dawnstrike, and Mistypool, the last of which was followed closely by Wasppaw. Right behind them was Vinecrawl, the elder she-cat taking up a slightly slower pace than the rest.

Once in a while, Silverpaw spotted Dawnstrike pause to glance back at her mother. There was an odd glint in her eyes that made Silverpaw's chest tighten with sympathy—she felt like she was quickly starting to understand Dawnstrike's own turbulent emotions toward her mother. A mother who kept her kits a tail's length away, keeping the secret of their father from them and their Clanmates.

It hardly took them long to reach the clearing where the Gathering was held. Silverpaw glanced excitedly at her brother as they waited for Thistlestar's call and, when he finally gave it, they streamed into the clearing with their Clanmates. Once inside, Silverpaw looked for where Cindertalon had told her to sit—it was a sandy patch of earth near the southern end of the clearing. There were already a few apprentices sitting there while their older Clanmates mingled, so Silverpaw bounded over with Stormpaw and Wasppaw at her tail.

"Hi, Wasppaw!" called a ginger tabby molly. "Who are these two?"

"Hey, Vixenpaw," Wasppaw greeted her, looking friendly. "This is Stormpaw," he paused to wave his tail at the dark grey tom, and then at Silverpaw herself, "and this is Silverpaw. They're the newest apprentices of NightClan!"

"Welcome to the Gathering!" the other apprentices chimed.

"Thank you," Silverpaw dipped her head, their quick greetings filling her with warmth. She noticed how Stormpaw stayed stiff and silent next to her and elbowed him meaningfully.

"Er . . . yeah, thanks," Stormpaw murmured awkwardly.

"I've never seen a tabby without stripes on their body!" a dark brown tom blurted suddenly, causing the lighter brown molly beside him to cough loudly.

"Webpaw!" she hissed angrily before glancing back toward Silverpaw and Stormpaw apologetically. "I'm sorry, he doesn't get out much. He just means to say he thinks you two look nice."

"Uh . . . thanks?" Stormpaw shot a helpless glance at Silverpaw as Wasppaw started nudging him closer to the other apprentices. Silverpaw held back a chuckle while he succumbed to the flurry of questions from the other apprentices. She slipped around Wasppaw to sit at the edge of the group, wanting to see what kinds of cats sat in the crowds.

Five cats sat perched on top of the Tallrock in the middle of the Gathering Stones. Alongside Thistlestar, there was a brown-and-white tabby molly, a pale grey molly with wispy, winding stripes, and there was a dark grey tabby tom with shockingly long fur around his neck and shoulders.  _ That one must be Wolfstar! _ Silverpaw thought as she realized just how aged the tom looked. She remembered the elders telling her that he was the oldest living cats in the Clans—the only one who was a warrior during the Great War and the restoration of MistClan. Even the elders had all been kits or young apprentices, hardly old enough to recall the devastating battle.

On a lower ledge of the Gathering Stones rested pale ginger tabby molly with friendly blue eyes. Beside her was a serious-looking brown tabby tom, his head lowered as he whispered to her. Silverpaw tilted her head, trying to decide who the three mollies were; she knew they were the leaders of the other Clans, but the warriors didn't talk much about them.

In the crowds below the stones, Silverpaw recognized Goldenflame and a tall brown tabby tom from her first patrol of the borders, and realized that the SwiftClan cats must have taken up that space. In their group was an older-looking dark grey molly, along with a pale golden tabby molly and a taller, dilute tortoiseshell she-cat who sat with their tails intertwined. 

There was a crowd that seemed to cluster beneath Wolfstar's towering form, and Silverpaw figured that those were the cats of RushClan. Most of them stayed close beneath their leader's shadow—besides the broad-shouldered silver molly directly beneath Wolfstar, there was a slender yellow molly next to a darker yellow tabby tom, and a dappled brown tom with a narrow face. There was an outlier, though; a handsome, brown-furred tom with darker spots around his eyes sat about halfway between the group of RushClan cats and another group. Beside him was a pretty-looking brownish-grey molly, her amber eyes twinkling with friendliness as they, too, scanned over the clearing. 

Not far from the pair was a group of cats who looked more broad-shouldered than the rest, their muscles rippling beneath their pelts.  _ That must be BlazeClan! _ Silverpaw realized as she remembered the stories her mentor had told her, about how the BlazeClan cats turned barren, rocky land into their home. Before she could continue scanning the cats, though, a conversation from the other apprentices caught her attention.

"Oh, Wasppaw, what happened?" the light brown molly was asking, her yellow eyes round with worry. "You've got a scratch on your face!"

"Oh, that?" Wasppaw visibly faltered for a second but, after a glance in Stormpaw's direction, he puffed out his chest proudly. "Yeah, we got into a bit of a tussle with some rogues. It's okay though, Lilypaw. We won."

Silverpaw immediately exchanged a glance with Stormpaw and rolled her eyes playfully.  _ That must be the RushClan apprentice that he's been mooning over, _ she thought, growing amused. When she caught a flash of cream-colored fur in the corner of her eye, Silverpaw turned her head and saw Dawnstrike making her way to the back of the crowds. She didn't pay much attention to the sour-tempered warrior, though, as the conversations beside her carried on.

"Where's your brother, Vixenpaw?" Webpaw asked curiously with a glance at the ginger molly. "Last moon you said that he never misses a Gathering!"

Vixenpaw let out an exasperated sigh before responding. "Sneezepaw kept talking back to Deerskip, so she put him on elder duties for a moon!"

"What about Molepaw and Briarpaw?" Lilypaw spoke up suddenly, glancing between them all. "They said they never missed a Gathering, too!"

Silverpaw shuffled closer to Stormpaw as Webpaw reared up onto his hindlegs to peer over the heads of cats in front of them. "There they are!" he mewed, having spotted them in the crowds. "They must have earned their warrior names!" He pointed toward two brown tabbies that sat among the BlazeClan cats, and Silverpaw saw that they kept their heads held high and their chests puffed out proudly. The sight filled her with anticipation for her own warrior ceremony, and she found herself absent-mindedly clawing at the sandy earth beneath her.

"They look so proud of themselves," Silverpaw voiced her thoughts softly, mostly speaking to herself.

"Of course they do!" Wasppaw murmured, looking equally as excited as she felt. "Becoming a warrior is a big deal!"

"Shh!" Webpaw perked up suddenly. "The leaders are starting to speak!"

At the top of the stones, the pale grey tabby stepped forward first, her green eyes looking troubled. "A mysterious sickness is spreading through the elders of SwiftClan," she mewed slowly, as if she were calculating her words carefully. "It has already claimed the life of Palespirit, and Bristlehawk and Snakefang have also fallen ill. It displays the symptoms of greencough, though no herbs seem to help. Buzzardstar, please pass the news onto Aspenblaze." She then took a few paces back, nodding to the she-cat that she had addressed.

"Of course, Vinestar," the brown-and-white molly mewed, dipping her head to the other leader as she padded forward. "My deepest condolences for your loss. At the edges of BlazeClan territory, the rogues from the Twolegplace have grown unusually quiet. We also have two new warriors to announce—please welcome Briarthorn and Molefang!"

"Briarthorn! Molefang!" Briefly, the clearing erupted into cheers for the new warriors of BlazeClan. Silverpaw reared up onto her paws to cheer alongside the other apprentices, feeling deep admiration for the warriors even though she hadn't even met them. After the cheering died down, Buzzardstar nodded toward the spotted ginger tabby below them, motioning for her to speak.

"Things are well for MistClan," the molly mewed slowly after taking a few pawsteps forward. She kept the following sentences simple, as if she were afraid of taking up too much time. "Hickoryseed has moved into the nursery and is expecting Lizardspring's kits. The rogues have also become quiet in our territory."

Wolfstar hardly gave the other leader time to finish her announcements as he stepped forward, giving her a pointed look. "Congratulations, Lichenstar," he drawled slowly, the dry tone he took surprising Silverpaw. "RushClan has also lost one of its elders. A snake found its way into the camp while the elders were resting on our sunning stones. I tried to stop it, but I was too late; Smokesnout got bit and passed away."

As Wolfstar bowed his head in mourning, Silverpaw saw the brownish-grey molly from earlier doing the same. She tilted her head and opened her mouth to speak to the apprentices with her, but right when she started, Wasppaw interrupted her.

"Why is Shellskip mourning? I thought she was a BlazeClan cat," he muttered bluntly, twitching his tail tip as he spoke.

"Smokesnout was her mother," Lilypaw informed them quickly, while Webpaw rolled his eyes a bit. "She and Toadpounce, the tom next to her, were some of our half-Clan cats. Shellskip left RushClan to be with her father in BlazeClan before Webpaw and I were born, but our Clanmates still talk about her pretty often."

"Some of your half-Clan cats?" Silverpaw echoed, tilting her head curiously. "You mean there's more?"

Using her tail, Lilypaw pointed toward the small gathering of elders a few fox-lengths away. "Minnowbrook is mates with Brambletuft from BlazeClan, and both of our mentors—Sleekthistle and Reedtuft—along with the deputy are their children."

Silverpaw craned her head toward where the elders sat by each other. While most of the elders sat with a tail-length or two between them, she noticed that a dark yellow tom laid curled around a more slender silver tabby molly. Even though it was good to see that the Clans were more accepting of half-Clan relationships than the NightClan elders had led her to believe, the sight filled Silverpaw with a painful feeling of uneasiness.  _ If my father were a Clan cat, surely Mintwillow would be open about it, _ she thought to herself, not noticing the frown that had taken residence on her own face.

"Silverpaw?" Stormpaw whispered to her, startling her out of her thoughts. When Silverpaw turned to her brother with a more cheery expression, she saw that, to her relief, his concern faded away. "Uncle Thistlestar is about to speak, look!"

On the Tallrock, Silverpaw noticed that their uncle looked a bit distracted as his amber gaze drifted across the cats below him. "Like most of you, we've seen little activity from the rogues over the past few moons. We also have two new apprentices—Silverpaw and Stormpaw."

Silverpaw frowned when Thistlestar ended his announcements abruptly, attaching a stiff nod to the end of his words. "What was  _ that _ about?" she whispered to Stormpaw, feeling concerned about their uncle.

"I'm not sure," Stormpaw responded slowly, sounding just as distracted. "Who is  _ that?" _

She glanced at her brother, and then followed his gaze to the brown tabby tom she had seen speaking to the ginger tabby leader before the announcements began. He had since joined the warriors of his Clan, but now his head was craned toward the apprentices, his pale yellow eyes fixed on the group. Silverpaw shuddered when she met his eerie gaze and quickly looked away.

"Oh, that's just Stoatscratch," Vixenpaw murmured softly when she saw who Stormpaw was asking about. "He's our overseer. He can be a little unnerving sometimes, but he's actually pretty nice."

"I heard about that—your overseer, I mean," Silverpaw gasped, trying to remember what Cindertalon had taught her. "Don't they keep your leader in check with the warrior code?"

"Isn't that the spotted ginger tabby?" Stormpaw interrupted before Vixenpaw could respond. "She looks so harmless, what could she need an overseer for?"

"Lichenstar is really nice," Vixenpaw purred as she looked at her leader. "My mother, Vella, brought us there when she was really sick. Lichenstar and Batwatcher took care of Sneezepaw and I when she passed. Batwatcher is my mentor now, though sometimes Batwatcher pays a little more attention to Lichenstar than she does to me. Anyways, the overseer can also suggest changes to the warrior code depending on current affairs."

"Hush, apprentices," hissed a tabby molly with one blue and one yellow eye. "Someone is speaking!"

"Y-Yes, Willowstem," Vixenpaw mewed sheepishly while the rest of them silenced themselves.

Silverpaw quickly turned to look for the speaker and saw that it was someone in the crowds, rather than a leader atop the Tallrock. A pure-white tom stood tall, and Silverpaw could see one intense amber eye from where she sat. Suddenly he swung his head around, and she could see that next to his other eye was a gnarly scar reaching from his cheek to his chin.

"I've actually been picking up fresh traces of rogues around the abandoned Twoleg nest." When he spoke, his deep voice reverberated through the air. "They're staying scarce enough that it's hard to detect, but it's there."

Buzzardstar towered over him from the Tallrock, her eyes widened with shock. "Absent, why couldn't you tell me this at the camp?"

"Buzzardstar, I respect you, but there was no telling if you'd warn the other Clans," the tom responded slowly, clearly unaware of how rude his words sounded. "They deserve to be warned. Amberlight and I know what it was like there—the fact that the rogues have been trespassing so far into our territory is a threat to everyone."

"Are you sure it's not your own scent you picked up?" a dark grey molly mewed from SwiftClan's crowd. She pretended to inspect her claws, but Silverpaw could see a daring glint in her eyes.

"I appreciate the concern, Ashwhisker, but I'm certain I'd know my own scent," Absent retorted dryly, not even sparing the molly a glance.

"I don't know, you  _ are _ a rogue." Next to Silverpaw, Stormpaw tensed at the warrior's venomous words. Silverpaw felt herself grow uneasy yet again when she considered Ashwhisker's tone.

"Control your warriors, Vinestar," Buzzardstar snapped suddenly as she glared at the SwiftClan warrior. Vinestar stayed seated, though her green eyes flickered quickly to her warrior.

"Ashwhisker, that is quite enough," she spoke coolly. Even though she kept her cool, Silverpaw could see a hint of anger in the pale leader's eyes.

"Calm down, everyone," Lichenstar mewed worriedly as she rose to her paws. "We don't know that the rogues are dangerous yet—"

"Shut up, rogue-lover," Wolfstar snarled out of nowhere. Lichenstar flinched at his words, and he narrowed his eyes as he continued. "It's no secret that you let rogues wander through your territory, and even join your Clan! For the love of StarClan, your Clan was  _ founded _ half-full with rogues!"

While Silverpaw grew increasingly uneasy with the way the leaders started to bicker, she saw Vixenpaw shrink away from Wolfstar's words.  _ How could he say that? Cats like Vixenpaw couldn't help their birth!  _ she thought, starting to grow upset with the RushClan leader.

"Oh, stuff it, you old coot!" Buzzardstar growled, rounding on the old tom. "All of the Clans have ties to rogues at this point, it's not that big of a deal!"

" _We_ sure don't." Wolfstar narrowed his eyes and let them trail along the crowd. "And it  _ will _ be a big deal when an angry rogue comes to claim his—"

"Maybe you don't have direct ties to rogues," Buzzardstar interrupted him, taking a step forward, "but you took a kittypet into your ranks. That's no different than bringing in rogues."

"It most definitely is not the same!" Wolfstar sputtered out, visibly taken aback by the idea. On the other side of Vixenpaw, Silverpaw noticed that Lilypaw and Webpaw shot each other guilty-looking glances.

"That's enough!" Thistlestar called out and stepped between the two leaders. He raised his head toward the moon, and when Silverpaw followed the motion, she saw that wispy clouds were drifting across it. Then, once they passed, he dropped his gaze back to the cats below them. "Thank you for telling us of your discovery, Absent. We will  _ all _ be on the lookout for more traces of rogue activity."

Wolfstar only glared at Thistlestar, and Silverpaw felt her stomach drop as he opened his mouth again. "You  _ should _ be on the lookout. You've got as much love for rogues as Lichenstar, and StarClan knows it'll only attract more."

Suddenly, Thistlestar spun to face the scruffy grey tom, and Silverpaw caught a glint of moonlight off of his claws as he dug them into the stone beneath him. "Choose your next words wisely, Wolfstar," he warned slowly, lashing his feathery tail. Silverpaw leaned forward in anticipation, her eyes wide as she watched her uncle.  _ Why would he threaten to break the truce over this?  _ Though her mind was racing, she was acutely aware of Stormpaw's body next to her own, his muscles still tense as he watched the scene unravel.

On the Tallrock, Wolfstar looked just as shocked as she felt. "I– I just mean with your medicine cat, those warriors, and all those apprentices of yours—look, it's not exactly a secret that your queens have a history with rogues—"

Without letting him finish, Thistlestar leaped down from the Tallrock and shouldered his way through the crowd. "We're finished here," he snarled over his shoulder, glaring back at Wolfstar. "Hopefully you'll learn how to behave by the next Gathering. Come on, NightClan."

For a moment, Silverpaw only watched her Clanmates file after their usually laid-back leader. When Wasppaw nudged her softly, she gave an awkward nod to the apprentices of the other Clans and rushed after them with Stormpaw at her side. She glanced at her brother and saw that his jade eyes were fixated on the ground as he walked, his pupils dilated in a dangerous glare.

All around her, Silverpaw could hear the whispers of warriors from the other Clans. She could feel their eyes burning holes into her pelt as she left the Gathering with her own Clan. Slowly, Silverpaw tore her gaze away from Stormpaw only to see Wasppaw eyeing them warily. When she caught his eye, the golden tom quickly looked away and pretended as if he hadn't been staring in the first place. Silverpaw lowered her own gaze to the ground and decided to keep it there as doubt formed inside her.

The silence of the forest was nearly as painful to bear as the whispers from the Gathering. Silverpaw quickly realized that they couldn't return to the camp fast enough, and once they finally did, she snapped her gaze back up to find her uncle.  _ Why would he be so upset about what Wolfstar said? _ she wondered worriedly when she saw the grey-footed tom. _Are_ all _Gatherings this mind-numbingly hectic?_ There wasn't a memory she could recall where Thistlestar had gotten so angry—and never so quickly, either.

"Mintwillow, I need to speak to you," Thistlestar called out as soon as they were greeted by the Clan. The white-furred tom hardly waited for his sister's response as he stormed across the clearing and disappeared into his den. Silverpaw glanced uneasily at Stormpaw when their mother rushed after him.

"Should we go after them?" she whispered to him as their Clanmates slowly padded to their dens. Some of them sent uneasy glances over their shoulders, and the action made Silverpaw's stomach lurch.

"No," Stormpaw muttered quickly, his gaze locked on their uncle's den. "Look, Wrenfeather is lurking around outside the den. I doubt he'd let us get close enough to hear what they're saying."

Silverpaw held back a frustrated sigh when she saw that the deputy was indeed guarding Thistlestar's den. A few times, his green gaze flickered over to them before quickly darting away, and Silverpaw grew suspicious.

"This is about us," she stated, her tone flatter than she had intended it to be. She cleared her throat, trying to not to show how chaotic her thoughts were becoming.

"Obviously," Stormpaw retorted as he paced his front paws in front of him.

"What does any of it mean?" Silverpaw murmured more gently this time, not wanting her brother to snap at her again. "Why was he so angry at what Wolfstar said?"

"Do you really need to ask?" Stormpaw muttered, sounding distressed now. Silverpaw glanced at her brother and felt her heart twist when she saw the mixture of pained emotions in his green eyes. "It's pretty obvious, Silverpaw. Everyone else in the Clan seems to realize it, too—I know you saw how Wasppaw looked at us."

"You know what? If this is about us, then we deserve to hear it, too," she muttered as she started padding toward the leader's den. Behind her, Silverpaw heard the sound of Stormpaw leaping to his paws and rushing after her. As she approached Thistlestar's den, she felt her pawsteps falter as her heartrate picked up, but she ignored the restrictive sensations. Wrenfeather took a step forward suddenly, blocking her path before she could get too close.

"Silverpaw, now is not the time," the deputy murmured sympathetically, trying to usher her away from the den. Silverpaw could faintly make out the sounds of a heated argument coming from the den, their words muffled by the roots and stone that encompassed it.

"Let them pass, Wrenfeather." Silverpaw started as Dawnstrike approached them suddenly. She glanced around and realized that many cats, though they had retreated to their dens, were peering out at the cats in the clearing—at herself, and at her brother.

"This doesn't involve you, Dawnstrike," Wrenfeather warned the warrior and fixed her with a hard stare. "If Thistlestar wanted them to be there, they'd be there."

Dawnstrike took a few pawsteps forward and lowered her voice so that only Wrenfeather and the two apprentices could hear. "Even if  _ those two _ haven't openly admitted it, you and I both know that this is about them—" she motioned toward Silverpaw and Stormpaw with her tail "—and they should be in there. I know you saw that look in his eyes. Thistlestar doesn't just  _ lash out _ like that." For once, the molly's voice wasn't taut with anger—there was a deep sadness to it, a tone that Silverpaw had never heard before.

Wrenfeather faltered for a moment and let his gaze flicker to the two apprentices in front of him. "He'll involve them when it's time, Dawnstrike. Just trust him."

Dawnstrike scoffed, but before she could make a smart remark, Thistlestar and Mintwillow exited the den. When they were faced with the apprentices, alongside the deputy and Dawnstrike, they both froze momentarily. Thistlestar's distressed expression quickly grew friendly when he met Silverpaw's doe-eyed stare, and he padded forward to meet the two apprentices while their mother only watched. In her gaze swam emotions so conflicted that Silverpaw couldn't pinpoint a single one. So many questions and worries swam through her mind, and it started overwhelming her more than anything else had that night.

"The moon is about to set, you know," Thistlestar murmured to the siblings, leaning down to nuzzle each of them gently. "I'm sure you've both got a long day of training ahead of you, so make sure you get some rest." 

"But uncle Thi—" Stormpaw stepped past Silverpaw, his tone begging for the leader to shine some light on the situation that shrouded their lives.

"Stormpaw, no. Not here, and not now. Go to sleep." His tone took a slightly more commanding tone this time as he nodded toward the apprentices' den.

When she realized they weren't getting any answers from either of them, Silverpaw sighed and turned away. She flicked Stormpaw's ear with her tail as she trudged toward their den, the exhaustion of the night finally catching up to her and weighing down on her.  _ We just want to know what's going on, _ she thought sadly with a glance over her shoulder. Silverpaw met her uncle's gaze a final time and forced a cheery expression onto her face before she entered their den to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the only thing keeping me from posting every single chapter ive got done rn is the fact that the cliffhangers ive planned are so painfully worth it <3
> 
> seriously, when i was writing a future chapter the other night it took every ounce of willpower not to start posting more chapters just to see the battle cats drama come to life. help-


	7. Eavesdropping (06)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The events of the Gathering still seem to loom over Silverpaw's shoulders when, only sunrises later, the oldest apprentices earn their warrior names. What should have been a day of celebration quickly turned into a day with even more festering doubt and worry than Silverpaw thought was possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay,, so,,,, ive written 3-4 extremely drama-packed chapters this week and decided to reward us all with a double-upload week >.> we've all earned it haha
> 
> enjoy this surprise update <3

In the sunrises that followed the Gathering, Silverpaw noticed that Stormpaw had become restless during the nights in their den. Whenever they trained together, she noticed how much harder he drove himself—physically, and mentally, too. He had also started hanging out with Ferrettail and Dawnstrike more, despite the fact that neither of the warriors were his mentor. Normally, Silverpaw would have been upset with how little her brother talked to her, but considering the circumstances she found herself worried about him instead.

Across the clearing from Silverpaw, Mintwillow sat next to Newtsplash, though neither of the mollies uttered a word. The dark silver-and-white tabby that was her mother mingled with her Clanmates less and less with each passing day, and if Silverpaw had to guess, she'd say that Mintwillow had grown wary of them all after the almost-embarrassing event that followed the Gathering. Similarly, Silverpaw had become more and more wary each day. She didn't fail to notice how some of her Clanmates became tentative around herself and Stormpaw. Regardless, she continued to put up a friendly facade in hopes of reassuring them.

When Silverpaw looked away from her mother, she saw that her mentor approached her, and sat upright when she met his gaze. "Silverpaw, what would you say to a little training today?" Cindertalon mewed once he was within earshot. 

"Yeah, sure," Silverpaw chirped after giving the idea a moment of consideration. "That sounds nice. Will it just be us?"

"For now." Though Cindertalon's responses remained as simple as ever, his tone had started taking on a gentler sound to it as time passed.

When the dark grey tom whisked around to lead Silverpaw to the moss-covered training clearing, she thought about how much more attentive he had become in his training. He'd already taught her countless battle moves and hunting stances, even though she'd barely started her apprenticeship compared to her denmates. Before she knew it, they had arrived in the mossy clearing, and Cindertalon had turned to face her.

"I know I've taught you plenty of offensive moves, so today I'm going to teach you a couple of more defensive moves." When he spoke, he hooked his tail over his back and motioned to the earth below him with his paw. "If your opponent isn't giving you time to recover, you can make your opening with a sand toss. While we don't have sand here, there's plenty of loose soil to toss into your enemy's face. Try it on me."

"Um . . . ." Silverpaw faltered at his last sentence and glanced down at the grainy earth beneath her paws.

"Perhaps you need some incentive." Without so much as a warning, Cindertalon lunged toward her. Silverpaw let out a squeak as she panicked and flung her paw upwards. With it went a shower of earth and moss, flying directly into her mentor's face.

"I'm sorry, Cindertalon!" Silverpaw blurted out quickly when he ducked away and started blinking the soil out of his eyes.

"No, that was very good, Silverpaw," he grunted, sounding proud through his discomfort. Once he finished blinking away the earth, he sat upright and shook out his fur.

"Doesn't that hurt?" the apprentice worriedly asked after a heartbeat of silence.

"Sure, but a good warrior learns to endure the pain," Cindertalon responded slowly, as if he were contemplating his words carefully. "Besides, I've faced far worse hardships before joining the Clan."

Silverpaw quickly grew embarrassed when she realized she'd forgotten her mentor's past. "Oh, right. S-Sorry."  _ A warrior learns to endure the pain?  _ she echoed in her mind, staring at her mentor curiously.  _ Is he trying to help me with more than just warrior training?  _ She knew that the entire Clan had seen the argument between Thistlestar and Mintwillow, and they'd certainly all heard of what happened at the Gathering.

Cindertalon fell silent for a few moments, staring at Silverpaw's fur with a thoughtful look in his eyes. "Your pelt is light," he commented after an awkward silence. "If there's ever an enemy in our territory, you'll be one of the first to be spotted against the darker tones of our territory. Luckily, sneaking itself won't be much of an issue due to the layers of old pine needles that cover the earth, but you'll need to learn how to stay hidden." Without further instruction, Cindertalon waved his tail to some nearby patches of undergrowth. 

Silverpaw gave her mentor, and then the bushes, a skeptical glance as she padded up to them. For a few moments she stared at the vegetation in front of her, letting Cindertalon's words soak into the deepest recesses of her mind. Once more, she glanced at Cindertalon before delicately padding into the thicker parts of plant life. She crouched low, letting the tall ferns cover her body and hide her from sight.

"Excellent," Cindertalon's praise rang into the air, and Silverpaw padded sheepishly out of the undergrowth. "You're a natural at stealth, just like Rookpaw!"

"I'll probably never be as good as he is, though!" Silverpaw reeled when Cindertalon compared her to his son. The dark-furred apprentice was notorious for moving around without making a sound, often sneaking up their Clanmates in casual settings. Most were unsettled by his quiet demeanor, which Silverpaw found amusing.

"Oh, nonsense. You just need some practice!" Cindertalon fixed Silverpaw with an encouraging gaze, which vanished behind a screen of mischief when the sound of a twig snapping indicated they had Clanmates approaching the clearing. "Go on and practice some more."

"Right now?" Silverpaw asked, tilting her head. "Shouldn't we wait for—"

"Yes, right now. Go on!" Cindertalon nudged her toward the bushes, and just as Silverpaw hid herself, she saw Cricketpaw tumble into the clearing with Dovesong close behind him. "Greetings, Dovesong, Cricketpaw." She grimaced at her mentor's awkward words, but to her surprise, their Clanmates didn't seem to pick up on it.

"Hey there, Cindertalon," Dovesong purred to him before shooting a playful glance at her apprentice. "Isn't Silverpaw out here with you? Cricketpaw wouldn't stop asking to come train with her.  _ ‘Please, aunt Dovesong!’  _ he kept saying."

"That's not true!" When Cricketpaw fluffed his fur up defensively, Silverpaw found herself holding back what would definitely be an embarrassing snort of laughter.

"Oh, that's too bad," Cindertalon mewed softly, his tone flawlessly mocking disappointment. "Rookpaw and Falconpaw are completing their warrior assessments right now, so it shouldn't be long before we're called back to camp. I'm afraid they won't have much time to train together."

"That's true. Where is Silverpaw, anyways?" Silverpaw saw Dovesong crane her head around, and ducked further against the soft ground.

"You know, I had actually turned away for half a heartbeat, and when I looked back she was just gone." Cindertalon's tail stayed hooked over his back as he padded toward the newcomers and away from Silverpaw's hiding spot. "Cricketpaw, could you help me look for her?"

"Sure!" Cricketpaw chirped as he started sniffing around the clearing.

"Last I saw, she was over that way." Silverpaw tried to hide better when she saw her mentor motion in her direction.

Once Cricketpaw neared her, Silverpaw leaped out of her cover towards him. He let out a startled shout and fell away from her before bursting into surprised laughter. Silverpaw joined in on the laughter for only a few moments, nudging her friend back to his paws.

"Do you think we have time to get training in?" Dovesong asked suddenly, her muzzle lifted toward the sun. 

Beside the grey tabby, Cindertalon followed her gaze and flicked his tail. "Well, we probably could, but we'd be better safe than sorry. I only came out here to give Silverpaw a few short lessons—they can always train together back at the camp, though."

Dovesong agreed with only a shrug and turned to lead them all back towards the camp. Once inside, the warrior wasted no time in singling out her friends in the camp, leaving the rest to their own devices. Cindertalon gave Silverpaw a meaningful glance before he padded across the clearing to speak with Wrenfeather.

"Hey, Silv, instead of sparring, d'you want to just eat with me?" Cricketpaw asked quietly from beside Silverpaw. "I- I mean, we probably won't have much time to train—Rookpaw and Falconpaw have been gone for a while."

"Sure," Silverpaw responded quickly as her stomach growled, reminding her that she had yet to eat that day. "The fresh-kill pile looks full, too!" As she took a few pawsteps toward it, Cricketpaw rushed forward and reached a paw out in her way.

"Go pick a nice spot, I'll get the prey for us!" he insisted before trotting toward the pile of food. Silverpaw shrugged and looked around for a comfy spot to eat, feeling her spirits perk up when she saw a patch of grass that was free of the brittle pine needles. Cricketpaw returned to her as soon as she settled in the spot she chose for them, setting a vole at her paws and a thrush at his own.

"Oh, my favorite!" Silverpaw purred as she dug into her meal without a second thought. Cricketpaw quickly settled beside her and started eating his thrush. Every so often, they’d offer a few words to each other; when it became silent, it was just as comfortable. 

“You know, my mom told me something weird the other day,” he suddenly murmured around a mouthful of food. “At first I thought it was silly, but now I dunno.”

“What was it?” Silverpaw mewed curiously, tilting her head as she spoke. Newtsplash was never one for weird sayings or comments—when they were all in the nursery, the tortoiseshell molly was often straightforward with her words, even when she was being playful.

Cricketpaw paused and scrunched his face up a bit as he tried to recall what his mother had said. “She said that if you watch the sunset through the trees  _ every night _ for a few moons, your true love would return your feelings. It was kind of out of nowhere, though . . . what do you think of that?”

“ _ Every night? _ ” Silverpaw echoed, resisting the urge to giggle at the brown tom’s words. “That sounds pretty silly. It seems like a lot of time that could have been spent actually romancing a cat!”

“Heh, yeah,” Cricketpaw agreed, though his voice was a little quieter. “There’s no way either of us would fall for such a dumb rumor!”

When they were nearly finished with their meals, Rookpaw and Falconpaw bounded into the camp. The two toms looked exhausted as their mentors followed them into the clearing and padded to the leader's den, each of them looking satisfied. When Ferrettail passed by Silverpaw, she caught an inquisitive glance that he threw towards her. The action was so brief that she thought she might have imagined it.

"Hey, Silverpaw!" Silverpaw turned her head when she heard Stormpaw call to her. The dark grey tom started padding toward her quickly, seemingly exiting a conversation he had been having with Dawnstrike. As Silverpaw sat up to address her brother—and to question why he was hanging around the irritable molly, she saw Thistlestar leap up the boulders above his den and onto the root they were wedged next to.

"Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather before the Highroot!" her uncle called, his voice echoing around the camp. The white-furred tom hardly waited before he started his announcement, not that he needed to, considering most cats were already present. "Not long ago, Ferrettail and Sandfoot reported back to me and confirmed that these fine young cats are indeed ready for their warrior names. Today, their warrior assessments further proved that they're prepared. Falconpaw, Rookpaw, step forward, please."

Once the two brothers stepped forward, Thistlestar looked down on them and continued his speech. "I, Thistlestar, leader of NightClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to watch over these apprentices. They have trained hard to understand the code we uphold, and I commend them each to you as a warrior in their turn. Falconpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to defend and protect your Clanmates, even at the cost of your life?"

"I do." While Silverpaw watched her denmate respond, she noticed that beneath his fluffy fur, he was shaking with excitement.

"Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Falconpaw, from this moment on, you'll be known as Falconwing. StarClan honors your strength and dedication, and we welcome you as a full member of NightClan."

Thistlestar paused to raise his muzzle toward the sun, an action that Falconwing mimicked. The clearing erupted into a brief cheer for the new warrior before quieting down when Thistlestar turned to Rookpaw.

"Rookpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to defend and protect your Clanmates, even at the cost of your life?"

"I do." Rookpaw's voice was as steady as ever, and Silverpaw wondered how he could stay so calm during such an important moment.

"Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Rookpaw, from this moment on, you'll be known as Rookshade. StarClan honors your loyalty and sense of stealth, and we welcome you as a full member of NightClan." Once again, Thistlestar raised his nose to the sky, and Rookshade copied his movement.

"Rookshade! Falconwing!" When the Clan erupted into cheers again, Silverpaw reared up onto her hindlegs to chime in. She noticed that beside her, Cricketpaw was watching the newest warriors with admiration in his brilliant amber eyes. Swiftly, the fluffy silver-point molly dropped to all fours and nudged her denmate.

"That'll be you soon enough!" she reminded him happily.

"I sure hope so!" the brown tabby responded anxiously. "It's only been a few moons, but it feels like so much longer than that."

Suddenly, Stormpaw walked past them, and Silverpaw remembered that he had called to her before the ceremony. "Hey, Stormpaw, did you need something?"

"Oh, uh, no, not really," Stormpaw stammered, stopping in his tracks. "I was just wondering if you wanted to get some extra training in. Dawnstrike said that she and Ferrettail can help."

Silverpaw hesitated, glancing in the direction of the two warriors across the clearing. "I don't know, Stormpaw. They aren't our mentors."

"Well, Wrenfeather barely has time to actually train me, so I was just wondering," Stormpaw snapped suddenly, bristling defensively before trotting off to join the warriors he mentioned.

"S-Sorry! Maybe next time . . . !" Silverpaw called weakly as she watched her brother rush off. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a familiar feathery white tail disappear around the bend of the massive tree that rested near the back center wall of the camp. Silently, she rose to her paws and padded toward the tree, her ears perked curiously. It wasn’t normal for Thistlestar to display such clandestine behavior in their own camp; then again, Silverpaw had quickly discovered that it was even weirder for her uncle to lose his temper at a Gathering.

"Silverpaw?" Cricketpaw's worried voice sounded from behind her, and Silverpaw raised her tail to silence him. The closer she got to the bend, the more she could make out angry, yet hushed voices.

"Mintwillow, I don't  _ care _ if you think they look like him," Thistlestar was hissing quietly, sounding amazed at whatever Mintwillow had said to him moments before. "They deserve to know the truth more than anybody in the Clan!"

"Thistle, I can't do this." Silverpaw heard her mother's broken voice as she crouched around the corner of a winding root, careful not to scuff her paws around. The words the siblings uttered sparked a strange feeling inside of Silverpaw, one that she wasn't sure she could contain should it worsen. As if on cue, her heart started to pound in her chest. At first, it was so slight that she hadn’t noticed it, but it quickly grew painful as the conversation continued.

Thistlestar gave a defeated sigh before responding. "You can't run from your problems forever. I've done everything I can to make sure they know the love of a parent they don't have, and StarClan knows I'll  _ never  _ stop loving them as if they were my own, but you—" Suddenly, he broke off as raw anger seeped into his voice.

"W-What?" Mintwillow's voice was soft and timid, the molly sounding smaller than Silverpaw had ever heard a cat sound.

"Everyone can see what you're doing to them, Mintwillow—they act like they’re embarrassed to even exist right now. Do you have  _ any _ idea how much you've already hurt them? Are you even sorry?" Silverpaw jumped when she heard Thistlestar strike his paw against the tree, the sound of his claws raking into the bark echoing softly off the back of the camp. Luckily, no other cat was near enough to hear it.

"Of course I am!" Mintwillow gasped, sounding hurt by her brother's words. "They're my kits!"

"Then you should act like it." Thistlestar's voice verged on what sounded like a snarl before quieting down again.

"Thistlestar, please—"

"No, Mintwillow." The NightClan leader inhaled a deep breath before speaking more calmly. "You've made your nest. If you won't tell them, I will."

Suddenly, Thistlestar was storming out from behind the massive tree, and Silverpaw swiftly ducked out of sight. She pressed herself against the towering tree roots as she waited for Mintwillow to pass. Even after the dark silver tabby was long gone, Silverpaw remained frozen.  _ We look like . . . him?  _ she thought as she stared straight ahead, not looking at anything in particular.  _ Our father? Who was he to them, and why won't she just tell us? _

"Silverpaw?" She started as Cricketpaw whispered her name worriedly, ducking in front of her to catch her attention. Silverpaw blinked and held her denmate's gaze, not sure what to say at first.

"I– um . . . that . . . sounded really bad," she whispered slowly, realizing how confused she sounded as she spoke. The apprentice quickly tried to hide her emotions, though it was clear that Cricketpaw saw right through her guard this time.

"Hey, it'll be okay," Cricketpaw assured her quickly, shuffling around to press comfortingly against her. "Thistlestar will do what's best for you—my dad says he always knows how to do the right thing, even when others won't."

Silverpaw could only muster up a soft nod as a flash of black fur caught her eye. When she looked up, she saw Rookshade padding away from the tree and toward Stormpaw, his tail held unusually low.  _ Did he hear that, too? _ she wondered cautiously when she saw him whisper something to her brother. The mixture of anger and shock that made its way onto Stormpaw's face told her everything she needed to know, and soon enough, the dark grey apprentice was staring across the camp toward his sister.

Quickly, Silverpaw distanced herself from Cricketpaw and forced a cheerful expression onto her face.  _ If he thinks I didn't hear it, maybe he won't be so upset,  _ she thought. When he finally looked away, Silverpaw felt herself instinctively release a sigh of relief and let her weary gaze travel across the camp. Even though it had been little more than a half moon, her apprenticeship was proving to be more than she bargained for. Every day seemed to bring with it new, confusing emotions that she had no idea how to manage. Suddenly, all Silverpaw wanted to do was curl up in her nest and sleep her problems away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah yes, ~family drama~ time.
> 
> do you ever have characters that go off and do their own thing, even when you try to make them work with the intended plot more? yeah, thats happening to me a lot with a few of the characters in this fic. nightclan is highkey just full of angsty, angry cats and strained relationships.


	8. Dark Thoughts (07)

Ever since the Gathering, it had become increasingly hard to sleep—even moreso since Rookshade had told Stormpaw about the argument between Thistlestar and Mintwillow. Stormpaw let out a frustrated sigh as he lay awake in his nest. The chill of the night had already started creeping into the den, but even the cold wasn't enough to pull him into a slumber. Around him, he could hear the deep, slow breaths of his denmates. Since Falconwing and Rookshade had left the den, Wasppaw had moved his nest to a secluded corner, away from the rest of them. Cricketpaw had started sleeping closer to Silverpaw, and Stormpaw made sure to keep an eye on the brown tabby tom.

As he let his thoughts wander to his denmates, Stormpaw finally felt the tendrils of sleep start to creep over his body, gripping at him until he sank further into his nest. Right as he was about to drift into slumber at last, he felt something wet seeping into the fur of his paws. Stormpaw tried flicking what at first seemed to be water from his paws, and when the mucky substance only stuck to his toes, he snapped his eyes open and sat up.

Instead of seeing the familiar walls of the apprentices' den, he saw dark trees with slimy moss covering their trunks. Their branches drooped down from a blackened, starless sky, their leaves dangling threateningly overhead. Dark, murky water covered Stormpaw's lower legs, and when he lifted one of his paws, the substance made a sickly sucking sound, as if it were trying to keep him rooted there.  When he heard the sound of another cat walking through the sludge, and saw the swaying of undergrowth, Stormpaw froze and tensed his body. He didn't know where he was, or if the approaching cat would be friendly towards him, but he was sure he'd be ready to defend himself despite his current predicament. Moments later a pair of towering ferns parted, and Stormpaw prepared to leap toward the stranger; instead, he found himself faltering.

In front of him sat a slender tabby molly, her pale fur offering a remarkable contrast to the dark forest that surrounded them. The tip of her tail bobbed with amusement as she fixed her gaze on Stormpaw, though she didn't utter a word.

"Who are you?" Stormpaw finally asked after a few heartbeats.

"A friend," she responded simply, her green eyes straying from Stormpaw to examine the tree she sat next to.

Stormpaw eyed her for a moment, feeling suspicion rise in his chest. "Okay, then. What is this place?"

"A place where you can become strong." She snapped her eyes back to Stormpaw, and he quickly felt like her stare was burning holes into his pelt.

The apprentice only let out a hum in response and, slowly, he let his gaze take a second glance around the forest. Even though the sky here bore no sign of the stars that made up Silverpelt, he noticed that the water, the moss, and even the trees held the faintest of shimmers.

"You've been hurting," the molly mewed suddenly, her voice demanding Stormpaw's attention again.

"What do you know about it?" he retorted perhaps a bit too guardedly. Stormpaw eyed the stranger in front of him, wondering who she was and what she could possibly want from him.

"Oh, too much." This time, she let out a long, weary sigh and wrapped her tail around her paws.

"H-Have you been hurting, too?" Stormpaw asked slowly, analyzing the molly carefully. He tried putting the pieces together in his mind as he did so, but he couldn't seem to figure out anything about this weird place—or the weird she-cat in front of him.

"Mhm," she hummed thoughtfully, her striking green gaze staying trained on Stormpaw. "I've been hurting for a long, long time now, but you learn to cope with the pain."  _ You learn to cope? _ he latched onto her words quickly and leaned forward, eager to find out what she meant.

"How?" he whispered curiously, his round eyes locked onto her. "How do you do that?"

The hint of a smirk played at the molly's expression, but it was gone as soon as it had appeared. "You want to get stronger, don't you? To protect your sister?"

"Yeah, of course!" Stormpaw perked up for a moment before his suspicions rose up again. "How do you know about that, though? Wait, are you a StarClan cat?"

"Am I—" she started to speak, her eyes widening in surprise as she hesitated. Then the smirk from before reappeared, and she twitched her whiskers before continuing. "Yes, yes I am. I want to offer you some extra training, young one. It will help you protect your sister, and it'll also help you learn to handle your pain."

"Really? That's awesome!" Stormpaw leapt forward a bit, ignoring the unsettling sound the thick water made beneath his paws. "I'm already getting extra training, so this will be great!"

"Extra training from your mentor?" the molly queried, interest sparking in her gaze.

"No, from a few other cats in the Clan. But you're a StarClan cat, aren't you supposed to be all-knowing?" Stormpaw narrowed his eyes at her when she faltered at his question, though his worries eased when she started laughing.

"No, of course not," she managed between a few chuckles. "That's just a silly rumor. Come along with me, I'll show you where  _ I _ like to train."

The molly whisked around and started padding off into the dark forest, leaving Stormpaw to struggle after her. The water grew thicker the further they padded, sucking at his paws every step of the way while the pale tabby seemed to glide effortlessly through it. Stormpaw scoffed at the ease of her movement and trudged after her more desperately until they finally reached a patch of dry land.

"After a while, all that mud and nastiness will  _ really _ start to stick," the she-cat commented, watching as Stormpaw started shaking his fur clean. Then, she beckoned him over with a wave of her tail.

"Are we going to train right away?" Stormpaw asked once he was close enough. 

The molly nodded and quickly took a swipe at Stormpaw, her green eyes curious as she watched him duck away. "For now, I'll just show you some more advanced techniques. I'd like to start with the underbelly slash—"

_ "For now?" _ Stormpaw echoed, tilting his head curiously. "You mean there's more than just . . . advanced moves?"

"Correct." The molly sat down slowly, hardly paying attention to how the apprentice had interrupted her as she explained further. "After some time—once I decide you're ready—you'll be able to start practicing the moves with your claws unsheathed. If you're anything like you seem, I doubt it will take long."

"Wait, really?" Stormpaw frowned at the idea of training with his claws and thought back to his fight with Wasppaw. "Wrenfeather says to never use your claws during training."

"Who is he, your daddy?" the molly retorted, letting out a snort of mocking laughter. "Besides, it'll only be for here. It isn't like you'll be using it on your Clanmates."

Stormpaw hesitated at her comment before offering a shrug. "Alright, then." 

The molly moved to demonstrate the move she had mentioned before pausing, eyeing Stormpaw carefully. He watched her cautiously, still feeling a sense of foreboding despite her reassurances.  _ Maybe it doesn't matter, though. This is just a dream, after all, _ Stormpaw thought to himself.  _ A dream from  _ StarClan, _ no less! _

"Little Stormpaw, I can see the stress weighing on your shoulders from here," she spoke after a moment of silence. "What's truly eating at you? Was it something I said? Your father, perhaps?"

"It's just that Wrenfeather is my mentor, not my father," Stormpaw mewed slowly. Suddenly, he felt the urge to confide in the strange tabby, and words started spilling out of him before he could control himself. "I think my father is a rogue, actually. Everyone around me—well, mostly the other Clans, but sometimes even our elders say really mean things about rogue-born cats, and it makes me kind of nervous."

"Why don't you go find him, then?" the molly queried curiously, tilting her head as she held Stormpaw's gaze.

"What?" Stormpaw took a step back and eyed her again. Surely she was joking.

"You heard me." She held up her paw and inspected her claws, which were stained with a dark pigment. "I never knew my father, either. Unless you go out and find him yourself, nothing will change. Do you really think your mother will tell you now, when you're already an apprentice?"

"W-Well actually, my friend said he overheard our leader—my uncle—threatening to tell us himself!" Stormpaw felt himself grow defensive—and nervous—at her idea.  _ Go find him myself? If the rogues really are trying to start issues with the Clans, is that such a good idea? _

"Leaders always make empty threats," the molly laughed loudly and slammed her paw to the ground with the last syllable, fixing her intense green gaze on Stormpaw again. "Go find those rogues yourself, kit. Maybe then you can get some answers."

"Alright, maybe I will," Stormpaw nodded and glanced over his shoulder. He couldn't help feeling like he was doing something wrong with this molly. "I don't even know where to start, though."

"Keep training with me, and I'll help you. Now, about that move I mentioned . . . ."

The molly fell into a crouch and Stormpaw copied her movements. Their training continued through the night, for longer than Stormpaw could remember. By the time he woke up, his body ached from the training session, and he could see sunlight filtering into the den from the main clearing. Beside him, Silverpaw sat upright, her blue eyes round with worry.

"Stormpaw, are you okay? You kept twitching in your sleep," she murmured softly, glancing around the den even though they were the only two there.

"Yeah, I'm okay." Stormpaw sat up slowly and blinked the sleep out his eyes. Stifling a yawn, he asked, "How late is it?"

"Not very; Wrenfeather hasn't even sorted the patrols yet. C'mon, let's go see what we're doing today."

Stormpaw rose to his paws wordlessly, his eyes locked onto his sister's form. Even though her voice sounded friendly, there was something off about her. It was a strange edge, as if she were close to breaking down. He could see it in her eyes, too—a dangerous, dark glint that Stormpaw could almost feel.

"Silver, are you alright?" he asked carefully, feeling worry spark inside him.

"Me? Of course I am!" Silverpaw jumped to her paws and started trotting out of the den. "Come on!"

Though his gut told him it was a lie, Stormpaw remained silent and trailed after his sister. While he walked, he noticed that the ache from his training lingered. With each step, his muscles screamed in protest to his movements. Once out of the den, he saw that Wrenfeather was nearly halfway across the camp and bit back a sigh of dismay.  _ If I'm going to accept all this extra training, I'll have to get used to this, _ he told himself as he trudged over to his mentor with Silverpaw.

"Nice to see you two join us," Wrenfeather called to them as they approached, amusement twinkling in his eyes. "Stormpaw, you'll be with myself, Ferrettail, and Sandfoot for the sunhigh border patrol. Dawnstrike, you'll lead the sunrise hunting patrol with Cindertalon, Silverpaw, and Rookshade. Dovesong, I want you leading the sunset border patrol with Cricketpaw, Falconwing, and Daisynose."

Wrenfeather continued listing off the patrols while Stormpaw watched him closely. One by one, he listed off the names of their campmates, assigning them each to a patrol or a camp duty. He noticed how Wrenfeather didn't mention Mintwillow, and when he looked around, he saw her dark silver tail vanishing into the warriors' den. Just outside said den stood Ferrettail, the brown-and-white tom's gaze locked on Stormpaw.

When Stormpaw met Ferrettail's stare, the warrior started to saunter over to him. "Say, Stormpaw," he mewed slowly, his voice low, "have you ever found rogue-scent before?"

"Uh . . . ." Stormpaw hesitated and let his gaze travel to Falconwing and Icepaw by the medicine den before deciding that they didn't count—the family been in the Clan long enough to lose whatever  _ 'rogue-scent'  _ Ferrettail talked about. "No, I don't think so."

"Alright, while we're on patrol, keep your nose open for unfamiliar scents," Ferrettail instructed, his whiskers twitching with what looked like amusement. "If I find a trace, I'll let you know first."

"O-Okay, sure!" Stormpaw nodded quickly and watched Ferrettail pad off towards Dawnstrike, who sat with Daisynose and Dovesong.

"Why's he so interested in you?" Stormpaw jumped nearly a tail length into the air when Rookshade spoke up beside him.

"You have  _ got _ to stop doing that," Stormpaw murmured, giving his friend a sideways glance. "I don't really know why he seems so interested, though. A while ago he said he understands more than I realize, which seemed kind of weird, but I think maybe he relates to me. He and Dawnstrike offered me extra training, too—I accepted, since Wrenfeather gets a bit busy sometimes."

"Hm." Rookshade watched Ferrettail curiously before turning to Stormpaw. "I have to leave for my patrol, but I'll see if Dawnstrike knows anything. I know they've become closer recently."

"Thanks, Rookshade." Stormpaw nodded to the black-furred warrior as he padded off, and watched as Dawnstrike joined him, alongside Silverpaw and her mentor.

Once the hunting patrol departed, Stormpaw trudged to the edge of the clearing and let himself get comfortable. He had plenty of time before sunhigh came, with almost nothing to do. Wasppaw had gotten the short end of the stick and was tending to the elders, and Stormpaw knew better than to offer his help to the golden tom.  While he waited, Stormpaw let his gaze travel around the clearing and saw Thistlestar approaching Wrenfeather. His uncle waited for Wrenfeather to dismiss the rest of their Clanmates before the two toms stepped over toward their leader's den. The dark grey apprentice eyed the two cats, noticing how they sat with their backs facing their Clan. His thoughts flashed briefly to Rookshade, and how the dark-furred tom always managed to hear and see everything within the camp's walls without being seen.

Stormpaw slowly rose to his paws and tried to mimic his friend's mannerisms—surely if he could move like Rookshade, he could become a shadow, too. He tried to let his body glide along silently, willing himself to become weightless. Slowly, he crept across the camp until he could finally make out what Thistlestar was saying, which was—

"Stormpaw, I don't even have to turn around to know you're there."

His uncle's words made him start, and his ears quickly burned with shame when Thistlestar and Wrenfeather turned to face him. Stormpaw shuffled his paws anxiously as the white-furred leader padded up to him, though his eyes were anything but scolding.

"What's all this about, Stormy?" The warmth in Thistlestar's voice as he used the old nickname for his nephew reassured him, and he let out a sigh.

"I was just . . ." Stormpaw hesitated, glancing at his mentor before continuing. "I was just trying to copy Rookshade. He's always so quiet, you know? I wanted to see if I could be the same way."

Thistlestar gave him a disbelieving look and glanced over his shoulder at Wrenfeather. "Would you give us a moment? Don't worry, I won't keep him from his patrol."

"Of course, Thistlestar." Wrenfeather bowed his head before trotting off. Stormpaw watched as he made his way to Newtsplash and, who was resting in a patch of sunlight and watching Wasppaw trudge in and out of the elders' den. He noticed how the deputy's mate perked up at his approach. Stormpaw felt a pang of jealousy thorn at his chest as he watched them, and thought of his own mother and, very briefly, his unknown father. 

"Stormpaw, let's take a walk," Thistlestar coaxed him suddenly. When Stormpaw only sent him a wary glance, he sighed and padded toward his den. "At least come over this way. We should talk away from curious ears."

"What is there to talk about?" Stormpaw muttered, though he followed him toward the towering boulders.

"You're angry," Thistlestar commented, avoiding his nephew's question. "You've every right to be upset—"

"What do you know about it?" Stormpaw snapped suddenly and stopped dead in his tracks. He wanted his uncle to admit that he knew about it all the entire time—he wanted at least one of the cats who raised him to be honest with him.

"I know plenty, Stormpaw. Come here." When Thistlestar swept his tail across the earth beside him, Stormpaw slowly padded over and sat down. "You know that whatever happens, I'll always be your uncle, Stormpaw. Silverpaw will always be your sister, and Mintwillow will always be your mother—your family will never change."

"Why are you saying that as if something's going to happen?" When Stormpaw looked up at his uncle, he saw a faraway look in his amber eyes. "Why can't she just tell us why she's doing this? Or who our father is?"

"You don't need a father to be happy—"

"No, but I  _ want _ to know, and I deserve to." Stormpaw scooted away from him angrily. "It's pretty obvious that he was some rogue, I'm not stupid. I've also seen how other cats talk about rogues—not just other Clans, either. Even the elders will talk badly about rogue-born cats! Vinecrawl did, even though  _ she _ had a rogue for a mate, too!"

"You're not rogue-born," Thistlestar reminded him gently, his eyes now fixated on the grey apprentice.

"Then why does it still hurt when they say those things? Why does it make me so angry?" Stormpaw lowered his head and flattened his ears, not wanting his uncle to see how upset he was. At first, Thistlestar was quiet, and then he let out a soft, sad sigh.

"Look, I—" The grey-footed tom hesitated, sounding as if he were struggling with his words for once. "I promised Mintwillow that I would give her time to explain everything to you two. Stormpaw, I know it won't make up for the pain she's already caused you, but I know Mintwillow well enough to say that she's only ever done what she thought was best."

That final sentence filled Stormpaw with an inexplicable anger, but he swallowed it down as he glanced at Thistlestar. "She's ignored us or brushed us off since the day we became apprentices without so much as a warning. How could that be the best option for her?"

Thistlestar held Stormpaw's angry gaze, his amber eyes unreadable. "If Mintwillow fails to explain things, I promise to fill in the blanks where I can." Then, he cast his gaze toward the camp entrance, which rustled noisily to announce the return of the morning patrols. "The sunhigh border patrol will be departing soon, make sure not to be late."

As Thistlestar padded away, Stormpaw looked toward the bramble tunnel as the patrols entered the camp. Silverpaw was the first to enter, looking a bit crestfallen with a robin and a small mouse hanging from her jaws. When he saw that the rest of her patrol each carried two or three sizable catches, Stormpaw felt a bit of pity, but he didn't have any time to console his sister.

Wrenfeather was standing by the camp entrance already with Ferrettail and Sandfoot at either side. The deputy waved his tail to Stormpaw impatiently and, once his apprentice bounded over, they immediately set out into the forest. The golden-dappled tom tried to set a faster pace than usual, and as Stormpaw struggled to keep up, he noticed that Ferrettail had taken up a more-than-leisurely pace. Sandfoot stayed closer to Wrenfeather, but every once in the while, Stormpaw caught the pale orange warrior glancing over his shoulder at his Clanmates.

"Psst, Stormpaw!" They hadn't even neared the SwiftClan border when Ferrettail called him back quietly. When he glanced over his shoulder, Stormpaw could barely make out his brown-and-white figure through the undergrowth.

Stormpaw hesitated, sending a wary glance toward the other two toms before stepping backward toward Ferrettail. "Uh . . . yes?"

"What do you smell here?" the warrior asked simply, nudging Stormpaw further into the undergrowth and pointing at a patch of beaten-down foliage. Stormpaw stepped forward toward it slowly and leaned forward, detecting a vaguely familiar scent.

"I . . . d-don't know, actually," he murmured quietly, wracking his brain for a reason he'd recognize the smell. "What is it?"

"Do you recognize it?" Ferrettail pressed, his whiskers twitching curiously.

"I think so?" Stormpaw leaned back and frowned a bit. "I'm not sure. We should get Wrenfeather, it could be rogues—"

"It is," Ferrettail cut him off and quickly offered a nonchalant shrug. "Don't get worried, though. The scent is old, so there's really no need to inform Wrenfeather. I just wanted to see if you could detect it."

Without another word, Ferrettail bounded away from Stormpaw and caught back up to their patrol. Stormpaw slowly followed after him, feeling a bit troubled at the fact that they had found rogue-scent in their territory, and even more troubled at the fact that Ferrettail had said not to tell Wrenfeather. When he caught up, he heard the warrior excusing his absence by saying the apprentice had gotten his paw tangled in some vines.  _ Maybe it's all part of that extra training he offered,  _ Stormpaw told himself, feeling a bit reassured by his own thoughts. _Yeah, t_ _ hat makes sense. Wrenfeather probably already knows about the rogue-scent—telling him again would have been a waste of time! _

Even though he tried to dismiss his worries, Stormpaw still felt a bit off about it all. He tried blaming it on his exhaustion from his strange dream, or his anger toward his mother, but it just didn't seem to add up. Surely his Clanmates wouldn't hide traces of rogue activity from the deputy—no, not without good reason to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slightly early upload this week (￣▽￣)ノ i might start doing twice weekly uploads for a while because im a good distance ahead, with quite a bit planned out, but which days would be best? maybe sunday night/monday morning, along with the thursday night/friday morning schedule i stick to already? 
> 
> i̶ ̶a̶l̶s̶o̶ ̶d̶o̶n̶t̶ ̶w̶a̶n̶t̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶g̶u̶y̶s̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶w̶a̶i̶t̶ ̶a̶ ̶w̶h̶o̶l̶e̶ ̶1̶0̶ ̶w̶e̶e̶k̶s̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶k̶n̶o̶w̶ ̶w̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶i̶ ̶k̶n̶o̶w̶ ̶h̶a̶h̶a̶


	9. Vague Explanations (08)

"Hey, Silverpaw!" Cricketpaw called as he approached the fluffy silver-point molly. "I caught you a vole!" Silverpaw started at his voice and turned to face the brown tabby tom, trying to contain her happiness at his presence.

"Oh, thank you, Cricketpaw!" she purred gratefully before growing a bit sheepish when he dropped the rodent at her paws. "I wish I could have gotten you something in return, though. I'm not very good at hunting."

Cricketpaw let out a soft laugh as he sat next to Silverpaw, though he didn't have food of his own. "You don't ever have to get me anything, you know. I never expect anything in return."

"I'll find something for you," Silverpaw promised quietly before nudging the vole towards him. "Would you like to share it?"

"Silverpaw!" Before Cricketpaw could offer a response, Wrenfeather called her from beneath the Highroot. Silverpaw shot Cricketpaw a confused look as she approached the deputy slowly. "You'll be attending the sunset border patrol with Mintwillow and Stormpaw."

"Wait, what?" Silverpaw froze in her tracks, shocked at the order. "Just . . . us? What about Cindertalon? Or  _ you?" _ She'd never been ordered onto a patrol without her mentor—none of the other apprentices had. Even more surprising was the fact that her mother would be the only warrior on the patrol. 

"It's Thistlestar's orders," Wrenfeather responded simply, glancing around the apprentice to his son. "Go on back to your meal."

Silverpaw hesitated before obeying, and when she returned to Cricketpaw, she saw that he hadn't touched her vole. "What did my dad want?" he asked, his brilliant amber eyes wide with curiosity.

"He switched up a few of the patrols," Silverpaw murmured, settling back down and taking a bite of the prey at her paws. "I guess I'm on the sunset patrol now."

"That's weird," Cricketpaw murmured, inching closer to her. "He doesn't usually change the daily schedule like that—especially not so late into the day." He turned his head upward, and Silverpaw followed his gaze to see how high the sun rested in the sky.

She heard the sound of paws scuffling across the clearing and when she lowered her gaze, Silverpaw saw that Stormpaw had approached them. His jade-colored eyes were fixated on Cricketpaw, seemingly saying something to him that Silverpaw didn't understand.

"I'll talk to you later, Silverpaw," Cricketpaw mewed suddenly. Silverpaw frowned as her friend stood and trotted over to where Wasppaw sat with Falconwing, the two toms deep in conversation.

Then, she turned back to her brother, who had fixed her with an expectant gaze. "Why'd you have to chase Cricketpaw off? We were talking."

"Wrenfeather wants us to go on the sunset patrol with Mintwillow," Stormpaw ignored the question and flicked his long-furred tail as he spoke their mother's name.

"Yeah, he told me," Silverpaw responded with a sigh and looked away.

"We should probably be ready for her to explain her actions," Stormpaw continued, his tone sounding flatter than usual. Silverpaw frowned at the sound of it and turned to him again, her eyebrows furrowed with worry.

"Hey, Stormpaw."

"What is it?"

Silverpaw took a deep breath before speaking again. "No matter what happens, we'll always be best friends, right?" She looked at him hopefully as his green eyes grew round with shock.

"Of course!" he gasped at the suggestion that they could ever grow apart. "We won't let what Mintwillow is doing drive us apart. Besides Thistlestar, we're each other's only family now."

"There's Mistypool and Daisynose, too," Silverpaw reminded him of their grandmother and her sister quickly, glancing at their figures across the camp. Daisynose was lying down, looking winded while Mistypool curled around the cream-and-grey molly comfortingly.

Stormpaw shrugged as he followed her gaze. "I mean, they don't really talk to us much, either. They never really did. Rookshade told me it doesn't matter, though—we'll make more family without them."

"You're right," Silverpaw mewed softly and looked up at the sun as it slowly sunk towards the horizon. "We're each other's best friends. Nobody understands us like we do." She purred, growing happy as she nudged Stormpaw with her paw.

"That's right!" Stormpaw nodded quickly, his own eyes lighting up with joy. "When I become leader, you'll be my deputy! My closest ally!"

Silverpaw nearly choked on her vole as she laughed. "Who said I wanted to become the deputy? Maybe I'll be happy as a warrior!"

"Okay, okay, fine," Stormpaw chuckled softly as his eyes strayed across the clearing. "We'll stay best friends, though." Silverpaw followed his gaze and saw that he was watching Cricketpaw and Wasppaw, the two brothers deep in conversation. Wasppaw said something and nudged his darker brother playfully, while Cricketpaw fluffed his fur up indignantly.

"Cricketpaw is a good friend, too, Stormpaw," Silverpaw mewed, feeling fond of the tom. Beside her, she noticed Stormpaw tense, and she narrowed her eyes at him.

"I don't know." Finally, Stormpaw looked away from their denmates and instead fixated his gaze on another group of cats—Rookshade and Icepaw, joined by Falconwing as he left Wasppaw’s side. "I know we've been denmates with him for our whole lives, but you could get hurt, Silver."

"Isn't that just part of life?" Silverpaw murmured, tilting her head at her brother's words.

Stormpaw only eyed her for a moment before rising to his paws again. "We should get ready for our patrol." With that final, curt sentence, he padded off to join Rookshade and his siblings. Once there, Stormpaw leaned forward and whispered something to the black-furred tom, who merely flicked an ear in response.

Silverpaw let out a soft sigh and rolled her eyes at her brother's prickly behavior. She finished her vole in silence as she watched the sun start to set, realizing that with the shorter days of leaf-fall their patrol would be approaching fast. Soon enough, Mintwillow appeared out of the warriors' den and padded wordlessly toward the camp entrance. She hardly waited for her kits as they rushed over and padded out into the forest.

The dark silver-and-white warrior was quiet as she led the small patrol through the territory. The only sound coming from her was that of her paws against the dried, dead layer of leaves that accumulated on the forest floor. Silverpaw stayed silent, occasionally exchanging an uneasy glance with Stormpaw, who looked like he had something to say.  _ Please don't say anything rude,  _ she pleaded quietly. When he finally opened his mouth to speak, her heart dropped to her stomach.

"I heard Dovesong say she found faint traces of rogue activity in the territory a few sunrises ago," Stormpaw commented slowly. Silverpaw held back a sigh of relief at his passive tone.

"Do you think they're going to try and cause trouble?" Silverpaw murmured curiously, though she kept one eye on Mintwillow.

Stormpaw shrugged and glanced at the passing undergrowth that thinned as the neared the SwiftClan border. "Ferrettail says the scents are so faint that they can't be looking to cause issues. It's weird, though. They said it's almost as if they just appear in the center of our territory without any distinguished trails."

"That doesn't make any sense!" Silverpaw whispered, growing suspicious.  _ There's no way they could just _ appear _ in our territory like that! _

"Rogues are tricky," Mintwillow suddenly mewed over her shoulder, her voice tense. "Don't you ever trust them, either." Silverpaw and Stormpaw exchanged a surprised glance before the latter's eyes darkened angrily.

"You did," he shot back, his tone almost sounding taunting.

"Stormpaw!" Silverpaw hissed, shocked at his sudden anger. In front of them, Mintwillow had frozen. Her only movement was the tip of her tail as it bobbed erratically above the ground.

"It was a mistake," Mintwillow snapped, spinning around to face them. Regret filled her green eyes, and Silverpaw suddenly felt bad for her anger towards their mother, though it wasn't enough to mask the spear that tore painfully through her heart. "I—"

"You don't mean that." Though she tried, Silverpaw couldn't keep the pain from her voice as she stared at the cat that had once raised them so lovingly. "Thistlestar ordered this patrol for a reason. I know he wants you to tell us the truth, but you're just trying to push us away."

"Don't be ridiculous." Mintwillow rolled her eyes and spun away from the apprentices, padding further along the border.

"Yeah, it's ridiculous." Beside Silverpaw, Stormpaw copied his mother's movements, though his head was low as they padded forward. "Clearly,  _ you're  _ just a sour old molly who—"

"Stormpaw, stop it!" Silverpaw hissed loudly. She paused for a moment, and as she continued she struggled to keep her voice low. "Mother, I heard you and Thistlestar the other day. You said we look like  _ him _ —obviously you meant our father, but I don't understand why that's such an issue for you. We  _ aren't  _ him. We don't even know who he is!"

"You don't understand," Mintwillow snapped over her shoulder. "How could you? You're still practically kits!"

"Then help us understand!" Silverpaw begged, bounding forward a few whisker-lengths. "Talk to us instead of just pushing us away."

At that, Mintwillow faltered in her step, and Silverpaw could see the hint of a pained expression on her muzzle. "Okay, fine, just . . . keep walking with me. We aren't out here just so that we can talk. We have a patrol to finish."

Silverpaw and Stormpaw exchanged a glance as they kept padding after her. To the right, the vast moorlands of SwiftClan stretched out in the fading sunlight.

Mintwillow let out a deep sigh before speaking again. "I met him when I was a younger warrior. Things with the rogues weren't so . . . tense back then. He was handsome, and he was charming, and he looked . . . just like you two do. You've both got the same long, silky fur, and I can already see you two growing just as big."

"Stormpaw and I don't really look that similar aside from what you said, though," Silverpaw murmured, glancing at her dark-furred brother.

"Maybe not in fur color, but he's striped the same way you two are," Mintwillow glanced back over her shoulder briefly. "Silverpaw, you look much more like him than Stormpaw does. Especially your eyes . . . ."

"Well, what happened?" Stormpaw pressed, a hint of anger still lingering in his voice.

Mintwillow hesitated again, her tail twitching as she thought of her past. "I wanted him to join the Clan so that we could be together—especially when I found out I was expecting you two. Unfortunately, he had other plans."

"Like what?" Silverpaw breathed, feeling more sympathy for her mother with every word.

"He didn't exactly support our ways of life. He wanted me to go with him, to the Twolegplace. He always talked about the rogues there having  _ 'big plans' _ for him, and he wanted me to be part of that. When I said I couldn't, he tried saying he wanted the kits—he wanted you two—so I just . . . never talked to him again."

Silverpaw let out a sad gasp at the thought of her mother's broken love. "That's such a tragedy!" she whispered.

Mintwillow let out a sad laugh, and sent a warm but apologetic glance over her shoulder. "Yeah, but I have two amazing kits to show for it." Silverpaw felt her fur grow warm under her mother's praise, but Stormpaw still looked distrustful. 

"You sure don't act like it," he muttered sourly. "Maybe we would have been better off with him, at least it seems like he wanted us."

"Stormpaw—" Mintwillow sounded scolding for half a heartbeat before she stopped herself. "I know that I haven't been the greatest toward you since your apprenticeship started, but it's . . . ."

"Complicated." Thistlestar suddenly appeared out of the undergrowth behind them, startling all three cats. Silverpaw turned to her uncle and saw that he looked a bit proud as he gazed at their mother. There was a hint of something else behind that pride, though—something darker that Silverpaw thought might be worry. "Thank you for finally telling them, Mintwillow."

"Of course." Mintwillow halted and turned to face her brother, her green eyes round. "You were right, I should have told them from the start. I just . . . didn't want them to get hurt by what the other Clans might say. I know that Wolfstar is notorious for voicing his feelings for rogue-related cats, but I never thought he'd pick fights like he did. I didn't even know how to begin telling them when all I saw was  _ him _ ."

"They've known for a while now, Minty. I could see it in their eyes whenever a cat made a comment like that." Thistlestar padded toward the apprentices and brushed against them comfortingly. Silverpaw leaned into his warmth happily, watching as he kept his gaze locked to Mintwillow. "Are you still considering . . . ?"

". . . yes." Mintwillow sighed again and turned away, gazing over the land beyond their territory. "I can't say if it will be permanent, but it would help me clear my head."

"Considering what?" Silverpaw chimed in, glancing between the two cats.

Thistlestar stared at Mintwillow sadly before shaking his head. "You know, it's getting pretty late. We should cut the patrol short and return to camp before anyone gets worried." He padded to the head of the group, his tail brushing reassuringly over Silverpaw and Stormpaw's shoulders respectively. Silverpaw kept her mouth shut as they finished their patrol, and beside her, Stormpaw still looked a bit mad. Even though their mother had finally told them the truth and explained why she had distanced herself so suddenly, Silverpaw felt worried.  _ What could she be planning? _

When they returned to the camp, it was quiet, as most cats had gone to their nests for the evening. Cricketpaw sat outside of the apprentices' den patiently, and when Silverpaw came into sight, he rushed up to her happily.

"Welcome back, Silverpaw!" he purred to her. "Guess what—Dovesong said that she and Mistypool would take me and Wasppaw to Starfalls tomorrow!"

Silverpaw watched her mother and Thistlestar pad off wordlessly as she forced a purr in response to her friend. "That's great, Cricketpaw! Do you think you'll get dreams from StarClan?"

"That would be awesome, but I don't think so." Cricketpaw shuffled his paws meekly, his excitement suddenly ebbing away. "I'm nobody special, I doubt they'd have any interest in me."

"What are you talking about?" Silverpaw scoffed and nudged him affectionately. "You're amazing, Cricketpaw! If anything, StarClan should feel  _ honored _ to speak to you. You better tell me everything that happens, okay?"

"As if I'd let you get away without suffering through every last detail!" Cricketpaw laughed, his eyes lighting up cheerfully in the dark of the night. "I'll tell you every single bug I spot on the journey, too!"

Silverpaw snorted in amusement and rolled her eyes playfully. "Sure, you will. I'll save a fat thrush for you if you can actually do it!"

"I'll hold you to that. Come on, let's go to our nests. Wasppaw and I have to be up pretty early." Cricketpaw flicked Silverpaw's nose with his tail and rushed off to their den. Silverpaw twitched her whiskers and hurried after him. Once she was resting in her nest, sleep overcame her quickly.

Silverpaw entered her dream faster than usual, and this time it was even more vivid than her other dreams. Around her was a dark forest, the trees slimy with dark crimson moss. Even though she stood on dry land, she could see multiple pools of murky liquid dotting the surrounding forest floor.  _ What is this place? _ she wondered, fighting back a feeling of foreboding that rose in her chest. Something inside her told her she wanted to get out of there as fast as possible, but how could she do that when she didn't even know where _there_ was?

Somewhere behind her a twig snapped, and Silverpaw spun around quickly. "Hello? Is someone there?" she called out hesitantly. When there was no response, she padded forward slowly, her gaze darting around.

The towering plants cast shadows across her path, some of them even resembling cats. Every time a shadow twitched at her paws, she jumped and glanced wildly around herself, though she never saw another cat. Silverpaw twitched her tail nervously as she traveled further into the strange forest that was devoid of the sounds of life that filled her waking life. The unusual dream occupied her mind for the entire night, and by the time she woke up, she felt as if she'd lost energy instead of gaining more back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sometimes i like to make my characters pretty punchable :nod:
> 
> things are gonna start getting p r e t t y heated and uh  
> yeah, have fun! :^)


	10. The Strange Forest (09)

Several sunrises had passed since Mintwillow had told the siblings the truth—most of it, at least. A chill now lingered in the air, biting at Silverpaw's toes as a warning of the arrival of leaf-fall, and soon leafbare. The elder Warblerwing had already come down with a cough and was preemptively moved into the medicine den. Most of her Clanmates seemed uneasy over his symptoms, many of them mentioning the strange illness that had overcome the elders of SwiftClan. Silverpaw shared their worries, of course. Admittedly, though, she was more intrigued by the fact that Ferrettail had barely visited the medicine den despite being Warblerwing's son.

Beside her sat Cricketpaw and Wasppaw, the two brothers chattering to each other and to her. As expected, neither of them had received special dreams at Starfalls. Even though several sunrises had passed, they were both equally mystified by the ancestral pools.

"It's so cool that Icepaw gets to go every half moon, now!" Cricketpaw whispered in awe. "It's like another land entirely!"

"Yeah, it is," Wasppaw nodded quickly. Even the short-tempered tom looked excited for once.

Silverpaw didn't respond. She'd spotted Stormpaw a little ways across the clearing next to Rookshade, and had noticed a nasty-looking scratch hidden beneath his long fur. With every passing day, Stormpaw had seemed to grow more drained, too, just like she had. Silverpaw's dreams in the strange forest continued, though every night she wandered alone. Every morning, she felt like she lost sleep, but somehow she managed to stay light-hearted and kept training diligently when asked, so nobody questioned her exhaustion.

"Do you think Icepaw talks to StarClan every half moon?" Cricketpaw whispered again, his tone hushed.

"I doubt it," Silverpaw murmured, slowly letting her gaze find the grey-and-white molly. "Don't they only visit to deliver messages or omens?" Icepaw was standing beneath the root that formed the entrance to their den with Rowanspots at her side. The older medicine cat was giving swift nods as Icepaw diligently listed off herbs and their usages.

"I'm sure she doesn't speak to those spooky ghosts every time," a new voice spoke up, startling the three apprentices. Silverpaw fluffed her fur up in embarrassment when Daisynose approached them, and though the senior warrior was friendly, she noticed that her breathing sounded ragged and labored.

"Daisynose, are you okay?" Silverpaw mewed hesitantly, growing worried for her great aunt. "It sounds like you're wheezing." She remembered how Thistlestar had been urging Mistypool to retire along with her sister, and wondered if they should have moved to the elders' den by now.

"Of course I am," Daisynose purred, hooking her tail over her back. "This just happens when it gets cold out, so don't even think about worrying about it."

Silverpaw opened her mouth to respond, but the cream-and-grey molly was already trotting off, her sides heaving with the effort. She watched Daisynose leave, growing even more worried.

"I'm sure she's okay, Silverpaw," Cricketpaw murmured reassuringly, tilting his head a bit. "My mother once mentioned how Daisynose always wheezes a bit during leaf-bare, maybe it's just starting early."

"Yeah, you're probably right," Silverpaw sighed softly and looked at her friend. "Do you have any training to do today?"

Suddenly she felt a new presence, and she turned her head to see Rookshade sitting next to the group. "Hello, Silverpaw and friends," he chirped cheerily. Beside Cricketpaw, Wasppaw let out a scoff and stood to leave without a word.

"Uh, hey, Rookshade," Silverpaw responded slowly, glancing at Cricketpaw. "Stormpaw isn't with us."

"I'm not here for him, though," Rookshade responded, looking a bit confused.

Silverpaw stared at him for a moment before nodding. "Alright, then. Anyways, Cricketpaw, are you training today?"

"No, actually," Cricketpaw responded, happily curling his tail around his paws. "Dovesong let me have the rest of the day off as long as I promised to keep an eye on the elders and Ferrettail."

"Ferrettail?" Silverpaw echoed, feeling uneasy at the mention of the warrior.  _ He hasn't been acting out, aside from not visiting his father. _

"Dovesong and my father are his cousins, and they said that he's been acting strange lately." Cricketpaw shrugged, his eyes fixated on the warrior. "Even with Warblerwing in the medicine den."

"Strange how?" Silverpaw mewed and followed his gaze, recalling how the warrior had offered Stormpaw extra training.

"He apparently goes to his nest pretty late even though he doesn't have nighttime duties," Cricketpaw shrugged again and flicked the tip of his tail. "Sometimes he'll slip off during border patrols, or come back with less prey during hunting patrols."

Silverpaw mulled over his words for a moment before Rookshade chimed in. "I heard that he and Dawnstrike have been training more to keep themselves occupied. Maybe that's what he's doing?"

"Training . . . just with each other?" Silverpaw asked, giving the black tom a pointed look. She knew she didn't have to elaborate for him to know what she was asking—to know that she was asking if her brother was with them. Then, she thought of Thistlestar, and how her uncle seemed to be stuck as Dawnstrike's target for her anger.

"Yeah, it's only them," Rookshade confirmed, returning Silverpaw's look.

"But why?" Cricketpaw leaned forward curiously. "They're already warriors, they don't need more training."

It was Silverpaw's turn to offer a shrug as she considered the idea of cats training beyond their apprenticeship. "I mean, it  _ does _ sound like they're trying to keep their senses sharp for the Clan. How could anything bad come from that?"

"Yeah," Rookshade quickly agreed. "There's not much harm that extra training could do."

Before they could keep discussing it, the entrance to the camp quivered wildly before with the return of the sunhigh patrol. Once by one, the members streamed into the camp—Falconwing, Newtsplash, Sandfoot, and Dawnstrike. All of them bore minor injuries, and Newtsplash even sported a painful-looking limp. Immediately, the attention of the Clan was on the injured warriors, and Cricketpaw rushed from Silverpaw's side to meet his mother. Silverpaw noticed that Dawnstrike, while her fur was just as disheveled as the rest, was actually unscathed.

"We were attacked by rogues," Falconwing called loudly, his voice echoing around the camp. "We fought them off, but we have some bad news." The dark grey tom paused, as if he were trying to find words to speak.

"They attacked us from the trees," Sandfoot said when the younger warrior failed to explain. Gasps rippled through the Clan, and Silverpaw noticed Rookshade tense ever-so-slightly.

"What?" Thistlestar was bounding over now, his eyes wide with shock. "They came from the  _ trees?" _

"You heard that right." Sandfoot nodded while Newtsplash was ushered to the medicine den.  _ "That's  _ why we've been detecting rogue scents inside the territory without trails leading in or out."

Thistlestar fell silent, his fur slowly starting to stick up as he grew angry. "The  _ audacity," _ he hissed finally, narrowing his eyes as he caught sight of Dawnstrike. "Sandfoot, Falconwing, see Rowanspots and Icepaw for treatment. Dawnstrike, come with me." Suspicion flashed briefly in his amber eyes, gone so quickly that Silverpaw thought she'd imagined it. The leader waited for Dawnstrike to start following him before he walked towards the Highroot.

Silverpaw watched them go and noticed how her uncle's tail twitched with agitation. After a moment she rose to her paws, intending to follow and listen, when Rookshade leaned over to block her view.

"I know it's tempting," he started, "but you shouldn't be eavesdropping when our Clanmates just got hurt."

Her ears burning with shame, Silverpaw nodded quickly and sat back down. "Y-Yeah, you're right. What about your brother? Shouldn't you check on him?" As she spoke, she suddenly wondered how he knew what she had been planning.  _ Did he see me eavesdropping on Thistlestar and Mintwillow before? _ she thought, worry starting to blossom inside her. Silverpaw eyed her old denmate cautiously, though she saw no signs that gave away his true thoughts. 

"Look at him," Rookshade let out a snort of amusement and pointed across the camp with his paw. "He's fine." Silverpaw looked and saw that Falconwing, though visibly injured, was stomping around as if he hardly felt his wounds. Icepaw was trailing after him, desperately trying to usher him into the medicine den for treatment.

"I guess he is," Silverpaw murmured, tilting her head. Then, she realized that Stormpaw had vanished during the commotion—along with Ferrettail. "Rookshade, where is Stormpaw?"

Rookshade didn't meet Silverpaw's stare and instead let his gaze bounce around the clearing until it rested on Cricketpaw and Wasppaw outside of the medicine den. "Pretty sure they went to train not long ago. Cricketpaw wasn't doing the greatest job of watching Ferrettail."

"His mother is hurt!" Silverpaw hissed, feeling a brief surge of anger towards her old denmate. She glanced around and noticed that Mintwillow stood frozen at the edge of the clearing, a horrified expression on her face. The sight reminded Silverpaw of what her mother had said about her father, and she frowned. Words started falling out of her mouth before she had even processed what was happening. ". . . do you think the rogues had help?"

"What do you mean?" Rookshade asked, a look of genuine surprise appearing on his muzzle. "Help? You mean from within the Clan, right? That's ridiculous."

"I don't know," the silver-point molly continued slowly. "My— I found out that rogues have tried to recruit cats from the Clans before. It's weird that they'd know how to avoid our patrols—and those of other Clans, I'm sure. Before your father brought you here, do you remember hearing anything about that?"

Rookshade looked like he was caught off guard by the question, but he recovered quickly. "Falconwing, Icepaw, and I were pretty young. I remember our mother grew very ill, and some of the other rogues wanted to come to the Clans for help. I never really heard much else about the Clans until Cindertalon brought us here after my mother's death."

Silverpaw immediately realized how insensitive the question was and bowed her head. "Oh, I'm sorry, I wasn't even thinking—"

"Don't be," Rookshade assured her quickly, flicking her shoulder with his tail. "It was a long time ago, so I'm over it, really."

"How dare you?" Before Silverpaw could respond, Dawnstrike's screech rang out as she swiped at a stray twig, sending it and a pawful of needles flying. In front of her, Thistlestar looked taken aback.

"Dawn, I was just trying to ask—"

"You think that because we aren't mates anymore, my loyalty to the Clan is swaying? I can't believe you." Dawnstrike took a step towards Thistlestar and Silverpaw felt her hackles raise instinctively at the warrior's threatening stance.

"W-We aren't—? That's not what I said—!" Hurt shone in the grey-speckled tom's eyes as he tried to find the words to respond to the cream warrior. The sight was enough for Silverpaw to feel a spark of anger at the warrior, but she knew better than to intervene.

"You didn't have to say it." Dawnstrike loosened her stance but kept her head high with a glare fixated on Thistlestar.

Their leader looked wounded by her words as her tail drooped. "Why do you always do this?" His whisper seemed deafening in the silence of the clearing, and he glanced at the cats that had started watching the argument. Dawnstrike finally seemed to notice the attention that was on them and her own tail fell. She whispered something to Thistlestar before whipping around and stalking to her brother, Sandfoot, who was resting just outside the medicine den.

Silverpaw shuffled uncomfortably after the attention on Thistlestar dissipated and caught Rookshade's eye. "They're certainly a dynamic couple," he commented awkwardly.

"She's so mean to him," Silverpaw whispered, feeling bad for her uncle. Every time there was an argument, Dawnstrike seemed to inch closer and closer to her breaking point, the thought of which frightened Silverpaw.

"My father said she's struggled a lot since she found out about her father," Rookshade responded, keeping his voice low. "She acts like she has something to prove to the rest of the Clan." Silverpaw frowned, remembering the night that her own father was confirmed to be a rogue. She didn't feel some sudden need to prove herself, but she did notice Stormpaw start pushing himself harder than before.

"Why would she take it out on Thistlestar, though?" she murmured softly.

Rookshade could only offer a shrug in response. "Maybe she feels weak. Maybe she wanted something more than he gave her."

For a moment, Silverpaw considered asking her uncle, but quickly decided it would be a bad idea.  _ There are more important things to worry about,  _ she reminded herself. She started looking for Cricketpaw, hoping his mother wasn't too injured from the attack. When she saw Rowanspots scolding the fluffy torbie molly, she realized that Newtsplash would be just fine.

Letting her gaze wander to observe the rest of the cats, Silverpaw saw that Mintwillow hadn't moved from before. When she saw the same horrified look in her green eyes, a strange sense of foreboding crept over her pelt. No matter what she told herself, Silverpaw couldn't banish her suspicions about the rogues, nor could she rid herself of the feelings of dread that bloomed inside her being.

"Silverpaw, are you alright?" Rookshade asked suddenly, his amber eyes searching hers once she met his gaze.  _ Was it that obvious? _

"Yes, I'm fine," Silverpaw mewed hurriedly when she remembered how close Rookshade and Stormpaw were. The look in Mintwillow's eyes stuck with her even after looking away, and it made her feel strangely afraid. She quickly started worrying, wondering what Mintwillow knew, then remembered something she had said a few nights prior.  _ He said he wanted her kits—us, _ Silverpaw thought, resisting the urge to break her carefree facade.

"You know that I'm not just Stormpaw's friend, right?" Rookshade mumbled after a moment, looking a bit hopeful. His voice interrupted her thoughts, and for a few moments she lost her train of thought. "You can talk to me, too, Silver."

"I know, I'm just tired, really," Silverpaw assured him quickly, adding a subtle laugh to the end of her words for extra measure. "I think I'll sleep early, honestly. I haven't been getting much rest."

"Oh, okay then. Sleep well." As Silverpaw excused herself and retreated to the apprentices' den, she could feel Rookshade's gaze burning into her pelt.

Once she was inside the familiar den, Silverpaw let out a sigh of relief and collapsed into her nest. Without her denmates, an unbearable quiet fell over her, and for what seemed like forever Silverpaw lay awake in her nest. She found herself missing the soothing sounds of breathing that came from Stormpaw, Cricketpaw, and Wasppaw, and for a moment she regretted her decision to sleep early.

"This is ridiculous," she whispered to herself after ages of silence. "I'm going to keep having those weird dreams—sleeping early won't help me at all." Again, she let out a frustrated sigh and put her paws over her ears in an attempt to muffle the faint ringing tones that existed where there was silence.

After screwing her eyes shut, Silverpaw finally felt sleep creep over her body. She tucked her paws in close to her and let her mind drift off, praying to StarClan for normal dreams—or even a dreamless sleep.

Soon enough, though, she heard the familiar sounds of that strange, dark forest. The sloshing of the murky pools as they lapped at the dry land filled her ears. When she opened her eyes, Silverpaw grimaced at the sight of fungus-covered trees and slimy bark, and the towering, dark foliage. The dream felt slightly different this time, though. Silverpaw could feel the presence of another cat, there was no mistaking it. She felt her fur crawl as if their eyes were on her, and, slowly, she turned around to meet a piercing amber gaze that peered out of the bushes at her.

"Hello, Silverpaw. It's about time we've met." The chilling amber eyes that peered out of the foliage bore painfully into her fur. She shuddered and glanced around quickly before fixing her sight back on the pair of eyes.

"Who are you?" she queried, keeping her voice even despite the fear she felt.

"I'm afraid you're not in a position to be asking questions." The voice was deep and scratchy, as if it hadn't been used in a long, long time. The cat's eyes narrowed after a moment, and then they vanished, though Silverpaw could still feel that same presence.

Suddenly, she felt fur brush against her shoulder as a tom leaned out of the undergrowth beside her. His breath fanned against her fur as he let out a chuckle before growing serious again. Silverpaw fought the urge to scramble away as she turned to face him and saw that his fur was a bluish-grey, and he had white splotches dotting his pelt.

"I've come to you with a deal you couldn't possibly turn down," he purred slowly, watching Silverpaw like a hawk about to swoop down on its prey.

"And what would that be?" Silverpaw mewed in response. She started to back away slowly while keeping her eyes glued to his form. There was a flicker of amusement in his eyes, though he stayed rooted to his own spot.

"I'd just like to offer you some . . . alternative training." As he spoke, the grey tom's eyes rolled a bit as if he were thinking of the right words. "It's nothing bad, I promise, I just . . . well . . . ." He trailed off and slowly started padding toward Silverpaw, sounding a bit conflicted.

"Well what?" she asked, feeling pity for the tom beneath the fear he sparked in her.  _ Is he all alone here? _ she wondered sympathetically.  _ I guess it makes sense, in a sad sort of way. _

At her invitation, the tom took another step forward. "I couldn't help but notice the turmoil that's been growing inside your heart." He lifted his paw and reached it forward with a single claw extended, pointing at Silverpaw's chest. 

"The turmoil?" Silverpaw echoed, flicking her ears uneasily.

"Yes, haven't you felt it? It's what led you to this place." The cat backed away and waved his tail in a gesture towards the surrounding forest. "It's what led you to  _ me _ . What do you say, Silverpaw? A little extra training couldn't hurt, could it, now?"

Silverpaw considered it for a minute, keeping her eyes locked onto the white-spotted tom. "I don't know . . . ." she murmured at last. As much as she wanted to trust him, she'd felt a strange feeling of foreboding since she first woke up in this place—this unnamed, creepy forest.

"Come on, Silverpaw, how bad could it be?" When the tom took a few steps forward, Silverpaw stepped backwards. She blinked, and his image faded away just to materialize once again behind her.

"H-How did you do that?" Silverpaw snapped quickly as she spun around, fear coursing through her body. There was a strange glint in his eyes now, a kind of dangerous emotion that wasn't there a moment ago.

"What, this old trick?" With a smirk, he did it again, this time vanishing and materializing right in front of Silverpaw's face. "I can show you lots of neat things just like that if you'd just stick with me."

Silverpaw swallowed thickly and glanced around nervously. Suddenly, it felt as if all of the trees had eyes, and she feared that the dark, looming plants would turn into claws to grab hold of her and keep her here. The tom in front of her waited patiently for her answer, a smirk still on his muzzle and the strange emotion remaining in his amber eyes. His tail tip twitched lazily behind him, drawing imaginary, jagged shapes in the dense air.

"Silverpaw, you know I can't wait for you forever," he coaxed her when she didn't respond. He raised his paw to take a step forward, and then he hesitated, as if he'd heard something. When he decided it was nothing, he started stalking towards Silverpaw again, his teeth glinting in the starless forest.

"That's quite enough, Snowface." Suddenly, a starry-furred cat was weaving through the trees, their gaze fixated on the tom. Silverpaw squinted at them, realizing she could barely make out their features, though she thought she saw a faint hint of dark stripes. "Leave this young cat alone."

"Of course it's you,  _ again, _ " Snowface muttered so quietly that Silverpaw could barely hear it. Then, he stood upright and turned to the starry cat, a mockingly delightful expression on his face. "Oh? And to whom do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

The new cat ignored his question, making their way closer to Silverpaw. "How come you're the one doing the dirty work, Snowface?" they asked with a glance down at the silver apprentice. "I thought you liked to keep your paws clean these days."

Snowface narrowed his eyes at that, his eyes locked to the newcomer's every movement. "Oh, you know, Frostheart has been skipping out on his duties. Naturally, I had to clean up after my little brother. Besides, it isn't like I can just  _ go up to him _ and remind him he has work to do." He rolled his eyes a bit with a gesture to the dark forest before turning his stare back on Silverpaw.

The stranger stared at Snowface for a few moments, their tail twitching with visible apprehension. Silverpaw slowly started to duck behind them—she didn't understand what was going on at all, but if some shiny, starry cat showed up to save her from a creepy forest, she was going to trust them. 

"Don't tell me you've grown scared of this place, too?" Snowface spat out suddenly, his voice trembling with laughter. He stared at the cat's tail before taking a few menacing steps forward. When the starry cat didn't budge, he stopped and frowned, suddenly looking a bit uneasy. "It's not this place that you're scared of, is it?" There was something else in his eyes now, something Silverpaw could only identify as fear.

"Silverpaw, come with me," the starry cat mewed after a moment of silence. "It isn't safe for you to be here."

Without waiting for a sign of her compliance, the cat turned away from Silverpaw and started padding back the way they had come. They walked with confidence, as if they knew she would follow—and she did. Silverpaw hesitantly started following in their path, noticing how their paws left a faint shimmer with each step. After a few paces, she glanced back at Snowface only to see that he had vanished again.

Silverpaw caught up to the stranger quickly, watching in awe as the dark, murky forest slowly turned into a warm forest that shimmered with starry sunlight. She looked around, feeling her uneasiness ebb away the further they trekked.

"What is all this about?" she asked after a while, looking curiously at the cat that she'd decided was a member of StarClan.

"That's something you don't need to worry about," they responded coolly, their eyes darting around nervously.

"You're a StarClan cat, aren't you?" Silverpaw continued, eyeing them carefully. "Who are you? And what was  _ that _ place?"

The cat let out a sigh and turned to her, their tail tip twitching. "That was the Place of No Stars."

Ignoring their visible cues for her to stop talking, Silverpaw tilted her head a bit. "The Place of No Stars?"

"Yes." They turned away from her again, their eyes scanning the trees cautiously. "Cats who have done terrible deeds, especially those without remorse are denied residence in StarClan. That's where they go instead. They are not to be trusted, Silverpaw."

Silverpaw glanced over her shoulder worriedly. "StarClan can reject cats . . . ?"

"Not StarClan." They spoke abruptly, clearly unwilling to elaborate what they meant. Silverpaw grew uneasy as she looked up at the sky and followed the cat further into the forest.

"Okay . . . ." she murmured slowly, deciding to steer the conversation in a different direction. "So, evil cats go there, and then what? I've heard legends of a place like that, but when we asked the medicine cat she just avoided the question—"

"That's because they've been taught not to confirm it," the cat snapped over their shoulder. "And you won't be speaking of it, either." Eventually, they reached an empty clearing and stopped.

"Wait, what? Why?" Silverpaw held back a frown as she sat down near the cat.

They turned to her and mimicked her movement, and when they spoke, they ignored her question. "Once a cat is sent to the Place of No Stars, they're sentenced to wander alone for the rest of their spirit's existence.  _ Clearly  _ they've found loopholes, though we aren't sure how. The more aware the living Clans are, the more at risk they are."

"You mean . . . by talking to me, that's the loophole? Summoning me to that forest in my dreams?" Silverpaw nodded slowly as she started to grasp the concept of a StarClan for villainous cats.

"You're not the only one." As they spoke, Silverpaw glanced around, and when she looked back the cat had vanished without a trace.

She jumped to her paws and glanced around wildly, searching for a hint of where they had gone. Then she remembered how Snowface had vanished into thin air, and realized that they must be able to do the same thing. The next thing Silverpaw knew, she was jumping awake in her nest, the chill of the late night air seeping into her pelt. Beside her, Stormpaw's nest was empty, his scent faded, and she grew worried. She looked around the den, picking out each of her denmates.

"Cricketpaw . . . and Wasppaw . . . but Stormpaw's scent is too faint for him to have gotten up for a drink." Silverpaw whispered to herself, wondering where he could have gone. Suddenly, the den felt far too suffocating, and she stumbled into the clearing for a breath of fresh air.

Once outside, she looked up and saw that the moon was still high in the sky.  _ I guess sleeping early really was a bad idea, _ she thought with a sigh, deciding to blame her untimely wake on that rather than her unsettling dreams. After a short while, the entrance to the camp quivered slightly and Silverpaw started. She spun around, finding the shadow of a tall, winding root and deciding to hide in the darkness while whoever—or  _ what _ ever—it was showed itself.

Right after Silverpaw hid herself, Stormpaw came slinking into the camp. He glanced around the clearing warily before sneaking into their den, and once Silverpaw decided that nobody else was following after him, she crept after him.  _ Why would he be out at this time?  _ she wondered to herself, tempted to ask him about it. Once she saw that he had already fallen asleep, his breathing slow and steady, she decided on a better plan—she'd wait for him to sneak out of camp again, and follow him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> even as i wrote this i found myself wanting to fight dawnstrike as much as i wanna fight mintwillow. these characters just act on their own without any regard for my plot, smh.
> 
> also, afterlife shenanigansss :hypereyes:


	11. Late Night Training (10)

Stormpaw panted as he practiced the new moves that Dawnstrike and Ferrettail had shown him. The moon was climbing in the sky, its light illuminating their figures and highlighting the Dawnstrike's muscles underneath her pelt; the sight of it left Stormpaw feeling envious, and he wished he could become as strong as her. Ferrettail watched them as he sat at the trunk of a tree, his body completely still.

After a while, Stormpaw paused for a break and fixed his gaze on the canopy of leaves left a dapple-patterned shadow on the forest floor. "Did the rogues  _ really _ attack from the trees?" he asked slowly as he dropped his gaze to the two warriors.

Guilt briefly flashed in Dawnstrike's green eyes as she sent a glance toward Ferrettail. "Yes, they did," she mewed softly.

"How did they even think of that?" Stormpaw questioned further, looking upwards again as he thought of cats launching themselves out of the trees in an attack. "It's pretty creative."

"Eh . . . ." Ferrettail looked a bit awkward as he answered the question, shuffling his paws in the grass beneath him. "Dawnstrike and I mentioned it as a joke. We didn't think they'd actually take the advice, much less actually  _ learn _ how to travel through the treetops."

Stormpaw started at his words, his jaw gaping at the revelation. "But this is our Clan!" he gasped, appalled at the idea of helping the rogues. "Dawnstrike, your brother got hurt because of that!"

"Look, they're just trying to scare the Clans a bit, Stormpaw," Dawnstrike retorted, lashing her tail. "They want to be treated better than they are, and if that means a few cats get hurt along the way, then so be it."

"Aren't they already treated just fine?" Stormpaw frowned and stared at the cream-furred molly. "I know RushClan can be rude, but that's because Wolfstar is practically ancient. Almost every other Clan has welcomed rogue cats into their ranks—MistClan was  _ rebuilt  _ with rogues!"

Dawnstrike let out an exasperated sigh and shook her head. "You wouldn't understand."

Her words ignited an anger deep within Stormpaw, and he growled before taking a few paces forward. "My father was a rogue, too, you know! I understand exactly what you went through and maybe more!" He kept his glare fixated on Dawnstrike, while her own eyes widened in surprise at his words.

"Okay, okay, keep it down!" Ferrettail hissed and jumped forward, pushing his way between the two cats. "Do you want to wake the entire forest, Stormpaw? And Dawn, don't act so shocked—everyone practically knew already."

Dawnstrike deflated a bit at his words and let out an irritable huff. "If I'm being honest, I figured that Mintwillow was just really embarrassed about a half-Clan relationship. She didn't seem the type to associate with rogues." Stormpaw shuffled his paws a bit, growing painfully uncomfortable by where the conversation was heading, even if he had been the one to steer it there.

"Ugh, whatever," he grumbled quickly, turning away from the warriors. "Let's just train some more before it's too late. Are there any other moves you guys know?"

"Alright," Ferrettail mewed, growing amused at Stormpaw's prickly tone. "Why don't you try climbing a small tree? It  _ is _ a pretty trusty tactic, and it could help us in battle if the Clans ever go to war again."

_ "When _ they go to war," Dawnstrike chimed in quickly, rolling her eyes. "With the way Wolfstar has been acting, I wouldn't be surprised if BlazeClan and MistClan ceased any friendly interactions with them. Won't be long for us, either." Stormpaw winced as she said that, remembering how Thistlestar had lashed out at Wolfstar at the Gathering.  _ At least now I know why he got so defensive,  _ he thought bitterly.

"Meh, you say pheasant, I say pheasant." Ferrettail flicked his tail indifferently before turning towards a smallish tree and stalking up to it. "Stormpaw, observe."

Swiftly, the brown-and-white tom climbed up the trunk until he got to the lowest branch, which was still a considerable ways up. Stormpaw craned his neck upwards to see the tom wave his thick-furred tail towards a smaller tree, and then nod back to the grey apprentice.

"Your turn," he chirped, looking amused when Stormpaw hesitated.

Stormpaw glanced up at the moon, noting how it neared the peak of its own nightly patrol in the sky. Then, he took a deep breath and started to climb the tree. Briefly he imagined that it felt like the trees in his dreams—the dark trees covered in slimy bark and disturbing fungal growths—and he nearly lost his grip and fell. Once he steadied himself, he kept trying to climb further until he reached the lowest of the branches and clung to it.

"Is this necessary?" he panted, ignoring how dizzy he got when he looked at the ground. "I thought we were going to train for something better. You know, like a  _ battle _ ."

"This  _ is _ battle training, Stormpaw," Dawnstrike muttered dryly as she padded to the tree trunk and peered up to him. While she spoke, Ferrettail dropped down from his perch and joined her. "They attacked our patrol only yesterday, clearly it works."

Stormpaw slowly got comfortable on the branch. "How will this help me, though?" he asked with a frown. At the end of the day, the most important thing to him was protecting Silverpaw from further wounding—physical or emotional.

"This will make you stronger, just like the rest of our training. Isn't that why you agreed to this?" As she spoke, Dawnstrike tilted her head curiously and Stormpaw looked away from her.

"Well, yeah, of course," he grumbled before leaping down from the tree limb. "Is that all, or are there more moves to show me?"

"Calm down there, kit," Ferrettail chuckled and motioned for Dawnstrike to observe as they trained. "You could always practice the moves you already know."

"Yeah, I guess so," Stormpaw snorted a bit as he spoke and fell into a mock fighting stance. "I've got the rest of my life to practice those, though. Show me something new!"

"I already did," Ferrettail smirked a bit and mimicked the apprentice's motions, then added, "Ah, why not? You're the one asking for a challenge."

He lunged at Stormpaw with his claws safely sheathed and his teeth hardly bared. Stormpaw let out a laugh and went to counter his attack only to gasp in surprise when the warrior feigned an attack and ducked behind him. When he spun around to pin Ferrettail against the tree he had run toward, Stormpaw realized too late that the warrior had leaped against the tree trunk to  _ spring off of it, _ twisting in the air to face the apprentice when he landed. The move left the grey tom cornered against the tree and completely awestruck.

"That was awesome!" Stormpaw exclaimed, excitement burning at his pelt. "You  _ have _ to show me how to do that!"

Ferrettail let out a laugh and glanced at Dawnstrike. "Hey, Dawn, what if we introduce him to the rogues?"

"What is wrong with you?" Dawnstrike hissed, though her tone sounded unusually playful, and the older warrior laughed at her response.

"Hey, come on, hear me out!" he stuttered through his fading laughter. "He's got the drive and the sheer determination, they'd love to meet a cat like him! Besides, they need to know who's on their side."

Dawnstrike quickly opened her mouth to argue. The second she did, Ferrettail kept speaking, and the two warriors erupted into hushed bickering over the idea. Stormpaw watched them for a few moments, not sure if he should be amused or embarrassed for them and their antics, and once he decided on the latter he spoke up.

"I actually wouldn't mind meeting them," he offered quietly, his voice catching their attention. "I bet  _ they _ could teach me some really unique battle moves! I could probably impress the entire Clan like that!"

Both warriors laughed at his curiosity, and Dawnstrike suddenly exchanged warm glance with Ferrettail. "He's got spirit, I'll give him that," she purred. "I guess we could consider the idea, but we have to be sure it's worth it." Just like that, her warm gaze had hardened and she gave Ferrettail a serious look.

Stormpaw tilted his head a bit as he inspected the warrior he'd grown closer to during his apprenticeship. While he quickly learned to understand her off-putting attitudes, he couldn't quite figure out why Dawnstrike would take it out on Thistlestar. During their training sessions, she acted so much more kindly to Ferrettail and to himself, and he wondered what his uncle could have possibly done to invoke her wrath. Before he could ask, he heard a twig snap, and all three NightClan cats whipped around to see who had approached them. 

In the darkness, Stormpaw could barely make out a familiar patch of fluffy, pale silver fur, and he felt his heart drop as he called out his sister's name. "Silverpaw?"

Immediately, Silverpaw crawled out of her hiding spot, her blue eyes troubled and her stance wary. "You want to meet the rogues?" she questioned softly, her voice wavering a bit. "The rogues that attacked our Clanmates . . . ?"

Beside Stormpaw, Ferrettail cleared his throat meaningfully. He glanced toward him and Dawnstrike and saw that they were bristling defensively, their wide eyes fixated on Silverpaw almost threateningly.  _ Silverpaw, why did you have to come here? _ Stormpaw thought helplessly. He saw Ferrettail prepare to step forward and instinctively moved himself toward Silverpaw. When he did so, Silverpaw took a few steps backward and his breath caught painfully in his throat.

"It's harmless, Silverpaw, I promise," Stormpaw murmured hesitantly, desperate to convince her. "It's just some training, okay? At the end of the day, it'll make us all better warriors for NightClan—for uncle Thistlestar! You don't have to join us, or even understand it, but—" he broke off with a wary glance at the warriors who trained him while Wrenfeather was busy "— _ please _ don't make a big deal out of it."

For a few moments, Silverpaw was visibly conflicted. For the first time since they were apprenticed, there was no sign of the friendly facade of hers that Stormpaw grew to resent—or rather, he hated what drove her to adopt such a mask. The turmoil in her eyes made Stormpaw's heart twist in his chest, and he almost found himself wishing she had kept her carefree illusions up. Then, the silver-point tabby ducked her head so low that he couldn't see her expression. When Silverpaw lifted her muzzle to face them all again, her expression was brighter, though Stormpaw noticed the guarded look in her eyes.

"Okay, don't worry, Stormpaw!" she mewed quickly, her voice chirping with friendliness. "I trust you. But uh . . . don't train with your claws, okay? Your long fur can only hide so many scratches before someone else sees and gets suspicious."

Stormpaw resisted the urge to reel from her words.  _ She saw the wound on my shoulder?  _ he thought incredulously, almost wanting to twist his head to check the healing injury. The molly in his dreams had given it to him when they started to train using their claws after only a few sessions, and despite her promises that it was only a method used for his training sessions with her, the claw-mark had followed him into the waking life.

"We absolutely do not train with our claws," Ferrettail spoke up quickly, his tone unusually strained. "He must have caught himself on a rose bush."

Stormpaw burned under the stare Silverpaw gave him after hearing that, unable to pinpoint her emotions. She ducked her head again, keeping her eyes on her brother this time as she said, "Understandable. Enjoy your night, and be careful."

Without another word, the apprentice turned and headed back to the camp. Stormpaw watched his sister vanish into the darkness, resisting the urge to run after her and tell her that what they were doing was  _ good _ . It was going to help him protect her. He glanced toward Dawnstrike and Ferrettail and saw that both of them were staring at him, the former looking worried and the latter more suspicious.  _ Does Dawnstrike know about the StarClan visits, too? _ he wondered before suddenly remembering what he was going to ask her.

Ferrettail took a few pawsteps forward before Stormpaw could speak, his eyes boring into the apprentice's pelt. "Should we be worried about her?" he asked, his tone frighteningly serious.

"Worried about what, Silverpaw telling someone?" Stormpaw bristled defensively, ignoring the foreboding feeling he got when he met the warrior's gaze. "No, she wouldn't do that. Don't worry."

For a moment, Ferrettail only stared at Stormpaw suspiciously. Then he grunted and waved his tail to beckon the younger cats after him before he padded into the forest—back toward their camp. Stormpaw trailed a bit behind them, gazing up at the moon as it crept toward the horizon once again.  _ How far would they go to keep Silverpaw quiet? _ he asked himself, suppressing a shudder at the thought.  _ I know she wouldn't tell. She trusts me, she'll understand! _

Once they neared the camp, Ferrettail glanced over his shoulder, his eyes glinting through the darkness. "Remember the secret entryway. I'll go first; the two of you should wait a bit before following me, and each other." With that, the brown-and-white tom vanished into a small hole in the sturdy walls of the camp, leaving Stormpaw and Dawnstrike to sit in each other's company.

"Have you been sleeping alright, Stormpaw?" Dawnstrike asked suddenly, though her tone was surprisingly gentle. When Stormpaw looked at her, he saw that she wasn't facing him at all. Instead, she sat with her back angled toward him and her face slightly raised to observe the fading sparkles of Silverpelt in the sky.

"Uhm, I guess so," Stormpaw responded slowly, getting comfortable and gazing at the stars as well. "I've been a bit tired lately, but it's nothing I can't handle."

Dawnstrike chuckled softly, though for a few moments she didn't respond. As Stormpaw gazed at the night sky, he thought of how the strange StarClan cat frequently urged him to find the rogues, and his own father. She seemed so certain that the unnamed tom was still out there, and quickly grew obsessed with the idea of Stormpaw meeting him—even more obsessed than Stormpaw himself felt.  Then he grew annoyed with the mere thought of her as he remembered how she claimed that Thistlestar's threat to tell the siblings was empty.  _ If his threats were so empty, Mintwillow wouldn't have listened to him! _ he thought.  _ Thistlestar has been one of the only cats to truly look out for us. _

"You should rest more," Dawnstrike murmured, startling Stormpaw. "There's nothing wrong with taking a few nights for yourself. You've only just become an apprentice, and you've got plenty of time left to get stronger."

Stormpaw frowned and considered her words for a moment. "Hey, Dawnstrike, could I ask you a question?"

"Sure, what is it?" Though her response was smooth, Stormpaw didn't miss how she tensed in apprehension. He took a deep breath, ready for the cream warrior to grow angry with what he was about to ask.

"What's going on with you and uncle Thistlestar?" the apprentice tried to keep his voice low as he continued. "You're . . . well, you're really mean to him, and I've never seen him do or say anything to provoke you. What did he ever do to you?"

Dawnstrike fell silent for a few moments, and Stormpaw could see her tail tip twitching at her paws as she thought of a response. "Um . . . I'm . . . I'm not proud of the way I've acted, Stormpaw. You're right that he's never really provoked me—if I'm being honest, your uncle is the kindest, most caring cat I've ever met. It's— it's difficult to explain, and you should probably head inside."

"Try to explain it first," Stormpaw pleaded, trying not to grow upset with her. "I don't know much about your relationship with him, but it's obvious he cares about you. What happened for you to push him away like you do?"

"You wouldn't understand," she muttered, her voice becoming harsher. "You're still an apprentice, I wouldn't expect you to know anything that we've gone through. You probably even haven't had your first crush yet."

Stormpaw narrowed his eyes and stomped around Dawnstrike's body to look her in the eye. "I might not know anything about the kind of love you and Thistlestar have, but I know about a different kind of love. My sister is my best friend, and when I see her hurting, I want to do  _ everything _ in my power to help her and protect her. Nothing, and I repeat  _ nothing _ could make me want to hurt her the way you've hurt my uncle."

"And I bet you'd go as far as training with some creepy, nameless cat in your dreams to achieve the strength to protect her." Her sudden accusation drove a sensation of shock through Stormpaw, and when his expression confirmed her suspicions, Dawnstrike continued with furious eyes. "A cat that you believe is a StarClan cat  _ just because they said so? _ What happens if you find out Silverpaw is being visited by a cat just like that?"

"What happens in my dreams isn't your business," Stormpaw snapped angrily, quickly realizing she was trying to dodge his questions. "What did Thistlestar do to make you act like you do?" Dawnstrike rose to her paws so that she stood slightly taller than Stormpaw, lashing her tail as she prepared a response.

"I want a  _ family, _ Stormpaw." When she spoke, her voice was a distraught whisper, and she dug her claws into the earth below her. "I have Sandfoot, but we're not as close as we seem, and Vinecrawl is a story of her own. I want kits of my own, but you know what he said to me?"

Stormpaw frowned a bit and stepped away, eyeing her carefully. "What did he say?" he asked slowly, starting to regret pushing the warrior to explain herself.

"Thistlestar said that along with the  _ duties _ of being a leader, he was already caught up raising kits!" Dawnstrike lashed her tail again and glared at the now-shocked apprentice. "You think your mother suddenly got distant when you were apprenticed? She's  _ always _ been that way, and Thistlestar always had to step in to look after you and provide for you."

"What are you talking about?" Stormpaw snapped incredulously, starting to feel cornered by her loaded words. "Sure, Thistlestar was present, but my mother was just as active in raising us."

"That's a load of fox-dung," Dawnstrike hissed.  _ "Honestly, _ you can't be this blind. I don't hold it against you—you and your sister are merely victims of the circumstances, and I like to think we understand each other more than others. But along with ruining  _ your  _ sense of love, Mintwillow  _ destroyed _ my relationship with Thistlestar, and I will never forgive her for it."

"Well, we aren't kits anymore," Stormpaw muttered, wondering if there was truth to Dawnstrike's words. "Why can't you ask him again? Uncle Thistlestar is understanding."

"The damage is done, Stormpaw," she grumbled after a moment, turning away from him again. Her tone was laced with a sense of chagrin, as if she was ashamed of her sudden outburst. "I'm sorry I snapped at you. Like I said, it's a situation that's difficult for me to explain. You should head on inside."

Stormpaw stared at Dawnstrike for a moment before squeezing into the hole in the camp wall. He silently weaved through the smaller, hidden tunnel before he came out in the middle of the main entrance. With a final glance over his shoulder, Stormpaw headed to the apprentices' den and settled down next to Silverpaw's sleeping form.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for once i have nothing to say, but it's honestly only because im coming to terms with how many of my favorite characters are voiced by the same voice actors. i am in distress hahaha


	12. Clearing the Air (11)

Stormpaw stretched near the main entrance to the camp, glancing up at the chilled sun momentarily.  _ Soon enough, leafbare will be here,  _ he thought, wondering what the forest would look like covered in snow. He almost felt bad for the RushClan cats—he probably  _ would _ feel sorry for them if they didn't have such a rude old cat for a leader. Their river would be freezing soon, and every cat knew that the fish lurking in the water were their main source of food.

He let his gaze travel across the camp, watching as his Clanmates interacted. Newtsplash sat with Wrenfeather, the two cats sharing tongues as they relaxed for the remainder of the day. His mentor's sister, Dovesong could be heard scolding Ferrettail just outside the medicine den for not visiting the sick Warblerwing. Stormpaw held back a frown as he briefly looked for Mintwillow around the camp, wondering if, after all she'd done to them, he would still visit his mother should she fall sick.

When he couldn't find the dark silver warrior, he noticed the lighter silver pelt of his sister. Silverpaw had avoided him since she caught him training with Dawnstrike and Ferrettail, though she clearly had no intentions of telling anyone about it or his plans to meet the rogues. Beside her sat both Cricketpaw and Rookshade, the former looking rather annoyed with the latter's presence.  _ Maybe the annoyance will push him away,  _ he thought a bit too proudly.

After a short while, Stormpaw rose to his paws and trotted over to the trio. He locked eyes with Rookshade, giving his friend an approving nod as Cricketpaw carried their conversation.

"Hey, Silverpaw, I found this cool spot while I was on a hunting patrol the other day!" the brown tabby mewed excitedly. "I really wanna show you sometime, if you wanna see it."

"Oh, where at?" Silverpaw purred, twitching her whiskers curiously. "What about our mentors?"

"It's a bit north of the camp, I'm sure my dad would let us go!" Cricketpaw chirped happily in response. 

Stormpaw resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and he could see that Rookshade felt the same by the way he twitched his tail tip suddenly.  _ Wrenfeather being his father shouldn't get him privileges like that,  _ he thought as he eyed his denmate.  _ Everyone knows apprentices can't just go out without a warrior with them, unless they're sent by their mentor or some other cat. _ Then Stormpaw's gaze fell on Rookshade again and he got an idea—he'd have to put it on standby for now, though. He had come here for something else. 

The grey tom cleared his throat and feigned an apologetic expression as he interrupted the conversation between Cricketpaw and Silverpaw. "Hey, Silverpaw, could we talk for a moment?"

"Sure," Silverpaw mewed after eyeing him cautiously. Wordlessly, Stormpaw rose to his paws and beckoned for his sister to follow him away from the other cats.

"I'll be here once you're done, Silv!" Cricketpaw called cheerily.

"So will I," Rookshade added, his tone calmer than the younger tom's as he glanced toward Stormpaw. The grey apprentice gave his friend another encouraging nod as he led Silverpaw to a secluded spot in the clearing, finding refuge beneath a high overhanging root that most cats seemed to choose for more private conversations. 

Once they had settled, Stormpaw gave his sister a serious look. "You know I wouldn't do anything to endanger you, right?"

"Are you talking about the night I found you with Dawnstrike and Ferrettail?" Silverpaw asked, tilting her head with the question. "Look, I trust you, but it isn't  _ me _ that I'm worried about."

Stormpaw frowned and shifted in his spot. "What do you mean?" he mewed slowly.

"Stormpaw, the rogues are a danger." This time, Silverpaw's tone had a scolding edge to it. "You heard that BlazeClan cat at the Gathering—an ex-rogue, no less. For the love of StarClan, they attacked a patrol of ours!"

"No, it's—" Stormpaw started defensively before breaking off with a frustrated sigh. "Dawnstrike said that they're just trying to scare us. None of the wounds were serious, they're clearly just trying to make a point. They want us to treat them better!"

"The rogues are treated just  _ fine," _ Silverpaw retorted quickly, sounding annoyed. "The only cats that are rude to them are old fleabags like Wolfstar or that SwiftClan cat at the Gathering. Do you forget about Cindertalon and his kits? Or Newtsplash and Rowanspots? If they wanted to make a point, why would they target one of the most rogue-friendly Clans? Surely they'd target RushClan."

Stormpaw frowned and tried to think of a rebuttal, but he couldn't. He knew his sister was right. "Okay, but why would they attack us, then?"  _ NightClan territory  _ is _ one of the furthest from the Twolegplace, _ he thought, growing conflicted when he couldn't think of an excuse for it.

"I don't know," Silverpaw mumbled as she looked away and shrugged. "Just be careful, okay? I trust you when you say you're trying to better yourself—you know I trust you. I believe some extra training  _ would _ be good for the Clan, but this talk of rogues frightens me. Don't forget what Mintwillow said about our father."

"Why should we trust her?" he grumbled in response, hardly thinking about how Silverpaw rarely referred to the molly as  _ 'mother' _ anymore _. _ "She hasn't even  _ spoken _ to us since that night! She's the reason Dawnstrike's relationship with uncle Thistlestar is in shambles!"

"Wait, what?" Silverpaw's head jerked in surprise at her brother's words. "What are you even talking about? How could she be responsible for that?"

Immediately, Stormpaw knew that he had said too much—that was Dawnstrike's personal business, and he knew he'd have to explain. With a hesitant sigh, he said, "That night you found us training, Dawnstrike told me that uncle Thistlestar was too busy helping Mintwillow raise us to have a family with her. It's a big part of why she's so angry all the time."

Silverpaw fixed him with a disbelieving look and snorted. "There's still time for them to have kits, bee-brain. It's not like they're old enough to retire!"

"I guess that's true, but Dawnstrike said that the damage has already been done." Stormpaw could only offer a weak shrug, still feeling painfully conflicted about what the cream molly had said.

"Well, that's her own fault, then," Silverpaw huffed, sticking her nose up angrily. "She can't just take it out on Thistlestar and blame her actions on someone else, even if Mintwillow  _ did _ cause what Dawnstrike says she did."

"I don't know, Silverpaw," Stormpaw murmured reluctantly. "I know it doesn't seem right to us, but I really feel like I should trust Dawnstrike on this one."

"That's fine, then," Silverpaw relaxed with another shrug, this time fixing her brother with a warm and almost apologetic gaze. "Let's not fight over some other cat's relationship, though. I really hate how she treats him, but it's not really our place to meddle . . . ." She trailed off at the end, her gaze traveling slowly to Thistlestar's den. 

Despite her words, Stormpaw knew better than anyone that she  _ really _ wanted to talk to their uncle and convince him that he's worth more than how Dawnstrike treated him. The dark apprentice agreed wholeheartedly—even if what Dawnstrike said was true, the circumstances weren't Thistlestar's fault, either. Instead of speaking on the reality they both silently acknowledged, Stormpaw decided to agree with his sister's words.

"Yeah, okay," he nodded with a chuckle that sounded more relieved than he had intended. "You can get back to Cricketpaw and Rookshade now, if you want."

It was Silverpaw's turn to look unsure and conflicted, and she glanced down at her paws before speaking. "Actually, Stormpaw, there's something I should tell you, as well. I should have mentioned it a while ago, actually."

"What is it?" Stormpaw asked slowly, feeling uneasy with the hesitance in her voice.  _ It couldn't be worse than me wanting to meet the rogues,  _ he told himself, even though he'd never heard his sister sound like that.

Silverpaw shuffled her paws before responding, which only worsened Stormpaw's worry. "I was told not to say anything, but I can’t keep quiet any longer. Not long ago I started having these weird dreams in this . . . really creepy forest. There was this dark sludge in the rivers and puddles, and dark, slimy trees, and– and the  _ plants—" _

"—were dark and ominous and towering?" Stormpaw interrupted as he jumped to his paws excitedly. This was way better than what he could have imagined hearing.

" . . . yeah, they were," Silverpaw murmured slowly, eyeing her brother carefully. "You've had similar dreams, then?"

"Yeah, and this cat visited me!" Stormpaw blurted happily, ignoring his sister's wary stance. "I don't know her name, but she said she's a StarClan cat, and that she can help me get stronger with some special training!"

"Is that how you got that wound?" Silverpaw spoke again after a moment of thought. With her tail, she motioned toward the healing scratch on his shoulder, carefully concealed by his long fur.

"It is, actually." Suddenly, he felt a bit uncomfortable, but he tried to move through the question seamlessly. "It's okay, though. Are you training with them, too?"

"No." Silverpaw's initial response was blunt and colder than Stormpaw had ever heard, and she quickly tried to smooth it over. "A tom named Snowface tried to talk to me and recruit me, but a . . .  _ another  _ StarClan cat showed up. They wouldn't tell me their identity, but took me away from that forest and into real StarClan territory."

"What?" Stormpaw's excitement faltered at his sister's words.  _ "Real  _ StarClan territory?"

Silverpaw ignored him and continued explaining what had happened. "Something was wrong, I think. They were scared of something—both of them. The StarClan cat said that the creepy forest is called The Place of No Stars, and that we shouldn't trust the cats we meet there. That place is where evil cats are sent, instead of StarClan."

Stormpaw stared at Silverpaw for a moment, trying to formulate a response. "Well, I'm sure it's technically still StarClan, right? I mean, it's still part of our afterlife."

"I guess so," Silverpaw looked away, her flicking ears the only sign of her uneasiness. "I think it would be more accurate to call it the territory of Silverpelt. Did the cat that's training you even tell you her name?"

"Well, no, as a matter of fact, she didn't," Stormpaw's tone grew flat for a moment before he offered an easy-going shrug. "That's alright, though. I don't need to know her name. Besides, Silv, she's just like us—she never knew her father! She told me that if we think ours is out there, then we should try to find him."

"What?" Silverpaw stared at him again, though she'd already rebuilt her walls well enough that Stormpaw couldn't pinpoint her thoughts. "Are you out of your mind? He could have been the one that staged the attack in the first place. Besides, what are you gonna do if you find him? Hug him to death and thank him for being such a  _ great _ and  _ present _ father?"

Stormpaw rolled his eyes at her sudden sarcasm. "I don't think he staged the attack. C'mon, Silverpaw, what harm could come from it?"

Silverpaw only let out a sigh and held Stormpaw's encouraging gaze for a few moments. Then, she snuck a glance away from him, suspicion flashing in her blue eyes. Stormpaw snapped his head to follow her gaze and saw that Mintwillow had finally appeared in the clearing, though the molly stood alone. Her stance was rigid as her gaze traveled across the camp, wariness present in her green eyes.

"Alright, okay," Silverpaw finally gave in and nodded to him. "I trust you. I'm going to go back with Cricketpaw since we both have the evening free, okay? Take it easy on the extra training, please."

"And Rookshade!" Stormpaw added, nudging her playfully before she padded away. Silverpaw merely rolled her eyes lightheartedly as she trotted back to her Clanmates. As he watched her go, Stormpaw wondered why an unidentified StarClan cat would stop Silverpaw from training.  _ No matter, _ he told himself after a moment.  _ I need to take every chance I can to get stronger. For Silverpaw. _

From across the clearing, Stormpaw sent Rookshade a friendly glance and rose to his paws. He glanced at the medicine den and saw that while Dovesong had vanished, Ferrettail hovered just outside the den, looking unsure of himself. Then, he remembered how Warblerwing had been one of the elders to defend rogue-born cats when he was still a kit.  Deciding that  _ someone  _ should visit the sick elder, Stormpaw strolled past Ferrettail and into the medicine den. Almost as soon as he pushed past the curtain of lichen, Warblerwing stirred in his makeshift nest, his attention on the grey-furred apprentice.

"Hey there, Stormpaw," the golden tabby tom croaked as if he had just woken from a deep slumber. "I've hardly seen you since you became an apprentice! Did you get hurt or something?" The old tom tilted his head, the curly tufts of fur on his cheeks bouncing from the motion.

"I actually came to visit you, Warblerwing," Stormpaw admitted with a glance around the den. "I guess I've been a bit caught up with my training, though. How are you feeling?"

"Oh, I can't complain," Warblerwing responded, stifling a cough. "Rowanspots takes good care of me, and Icepaw, too. I think I'll be all recovered soon 'nuff."

Stormpaw eyed the elder skeptically, noting how each breath of his produced a rattling, wheezing noise. He wasn't a medicine cat by any means, but the noise worried him enough to doubt his words. Briefly, he wondered why in the world Ferrettail wouldn't visit his sick father before remembering what the brown-and-white tom once said. 

_ 'Besides, I understand more than you might realize, Stormpaw.' _

As he watched Warblerwing's movements, Stormpaw wondered what could have happened between Ferrettail and his father—or his late mother—to cause such a rift between them. Warblerwing was always nice to him and the other apprentices. He'd never heard of the family getting into squabbles, either—certainly not like how Dawnstrike would lash out at Thistlestar, nor like what was happening himself, Silverpaw, and their mother.

"Stormpaw, you doin' okay, kit?" The phrase shocked Stormpaw, and suddenly he realized that Ferrettail truly took after his father. Warblerwing was looking concerned with the apprentice, and he realized that he had completely spaced out.

"Y-Yeah, sorry, Warblerwing," Stormpaw stuttered, growing embarrassed. "I've got a lot on my mind lately. But, uh, why . . . why doesn't Ferrettail visit you much? If it's okay for me to ask, of course."

Warblerwing's expression fell a bit when Stormpaw spoke, but he quickly recovered from it to answer him. "Oh, I'm not too sure. I'm sure there are plenty of reasons—Brightleap and I weren't the best parents in the Clans, you know."

_ Certainly better than mine,  _ Stormpaw thought sourly as he considered Warblerwing's words. "He never said much about harboring anger towards you, though," Stormpaw murmured, then quickly added, "I spend time with him and Dawnstrike sometimes. They've sort of taken me under their guidance, since Wrenfeather gets busy with his deputy duties."

"Oh, that's kind of them," Warblerwing chuckled weakly, breaking off in another cough. "That Dawnstrike has been a good friend to him. I do wish she'd visit more, too—she's like a daughter to me."

"Maybe I could talk to them," Stormpaw suggested quietly, feeling bad for the sickly golden tabby. "I saw Dovesong getting after Ferrettail for not visiting, but maybe if I take a friendlier approach he'll reconsider."

"Oh, you don't have to do that, Stormpaw," he wheezed in response, and Stormpaw could see a flicker of pain in his eyes. "They're grown warriors, they can make their own choices. And you shouldn't spend your apprenticeship worryin' about the affairs of your Clanmates."

"N-No, I'd like to, Warblerwing," Stormpaw mewed quickly, dipping his head. "Besides, Ferrettail's been hovering outside of the medicine den. I'm sure he wants to check on you."

Warblerwing held the apprentice's gaze for a moment before a grateful look fell on his muzzle. "If you insist, then I'd really appreciate that, Stormpaw. You should be on your way, now. I'm sure Wrenfeather's got some more duties for you."

Stormpaw ducked his head again and moved to retreat out of the medicine den.  _ Wrenfeather gave me the day off, _ he thought to himself,  _ but I should probably give Warblerwing some space now. _ As he started pushing past the curtain of lichen, Stormpaw failed to realize that someone else was about to enter the den, and he ran right into Icepaw.

"Fox-dung!" Icepaw cursed quietly as a bundle of herbs scattered into the den. The sharp language took Stormpaw by surprise, though he quickly tried to compose himself. "Watch where you're going, I just cleaned—" She stopped when she met Stormpaw's startled and apologetic gaze. "Stormpaw, what are you doing here? You're not hurt, are you?"

"No, I'm really sorry, Icepaw," Stormpaw stuttered quickly, spinning around to carefully collect the plants he had caused her to drop. "I was just visiting Warblerwing—I’m  _ so _ sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going."

"It's okay!" Icepaw chirped, leaning forward to tentatively take the herbs from Stormpaw's jaws. She let out a short breath as she did so, and Stormpaw started a bit at the cool, minty-tinged scent that came from her. "Rookshade said that you've been pushing yourself pretty hard, even though it's only been a bit over a moon. You should rest sometimes, Stormpaw."

"I haven't been working  _ that _ hard," Stormpaw breathed out as he stepped away. He held her soft green gaze for a moment before looking back toward the entrance to the den. "Don't worry, I won't overwork myself, Icepaw. Thanks for worrying, though."

Without waiting for the grey molly's response, Stormpaw rushed out of the den. He breathed out a sigh of relief once he was in the fresh air of the main clearing and quickly glanced around for a sign of Ferrettail, though he didn't see the brown-and-white warrior anywhere. Then, Stormpaw spotted Dawnstrike with Sandfoot, and started trotting across the clearing to meet her.

"Stormpaw!" A call from his mentor stopped him in his tracks, and as he turned around, he saw the golden-dappled tom approaching him. "I know I've given you the day off, but what would you say to a little extra training?"

"Extra training?" Stormpaw echoed softly, eyeing Wrenfeather as he neared. "Are you sure? I know you can get busy."

The deputy shuffled his paws a bit, scuffing his single white paw against the layer of pine needles beneath them. "Yeah, I haven't set aside nearly enough time for you. I know you've been taking extra lessons from Dawnstrike and Ferrettail, and I appreciate that they've stepped in to help without thinking twice, but I'm your mentor."

Stormpaw considered the offer for a few moments, glancing back towards Dawnstrike. The cream warrior had caught sight of the apprentice, and her conversation with Sandfoot ceased as she watched him. "Yeah, I guess you have a point," he mewed after a few moments. "Are we leaving to train now?"

"You can take a few moments to get ready," Wrenfeather nodded to him before facing the entrance of the camp. "But it would be preferable to leave now. I've freed my evening up, so we'll be able to train until sunset—or even moonrise, if you've got the endurance for it." When his mentor's tone took an amused, teasing tone, Stormpaw felt himself grow excited.  _ We could train all night, and I can impress him with the awesome moves I've learned from Ferrettail, Dawnstrike, and that StarClan cat! _

"I don't have to prepare!" he blurted excitedly before bounding past his mentor and towards the entrance tunnel. "Let's go!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally, a slightly-less-angst-ridden chapter 
> 
> my mind has been going off the rails with my ideas for this story and im so excited to keep posting e̶s̶p̶e̶c̶i̶a̶l̶l̶y̶ ̶w̶h̶e̶n̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶g̶u̶y̶s̶ ̶m̶a̶k̶e̶ ̶s̶u̶c̶h̶ ̶d̶a̶n̶g̶e̶r̶o̶u̶s̶l̶y̶ ̶a̶c̶c̶u̶r̶a̶t̶e̶ ̶p̶r̶e̶d̶i̶c̶t̶i̶o̶n̶s̶


	13. Journey to Starfalls (12)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> later in the chapter, some characters in the dialogue are swapped with their equivalent latin rune characters, along with the least-annoying zalgo characters i could find--i wanted to create a certain effect while still keeping the text readable, so i hope it's not inconvenient for anyone qq

Silverpaw yawned as she padded out of the apprentices' den. When she entered the main clearing, she was met with bustling activity from her Clanmates, and remembered that she and Stormpaw were traveling to Starfalls today. A moon had passed, and Wrenfeather said that with how unpredictable leafbare could be, it'd be better to get the visit out of the way. It made sense to Silverpaw—she certainly didn't like the idea of trekking through snow to get there, even if she'd never seen it before.

"Leafbare will be here soon," the deputy had said several sunrises before. "Once it passes, it's possible that you'll both be ready to become warriors. There's no telling how the season will pan out, so it'd be best for us to go now."

While Silverpaw recalled his instructions and blinked the sleep from her eyes, she thought of how the time had passed. Once he started his extra training, Stormpaw had started showing off during legitimate training sessions. Many warriors, including Wrenfeather, were impressed by his sudden progress. He had even learned a move that required him to flip off of a tree to trick and corner an opponent, and whether he learned that from his sleep-training or from Ferrettail and Dawnstrike, Silverpaw didn't know. All she knew was that she felt worried rather than impressed. Over time, she'd noticed Stormpaw wake up with more scratches. Most of them were small, and easy to hide, but there were a few that Icepaw and Rowanspots had noticed. Every time it was brought up, her brother simply passed it off as a result of clumsiness.

_"Oh, I stumbled into a thicket of thorns while I was hunting. I always forget to watch where I'm going,"_ was always Stormpaw's choice of excuse. Her brother was anything but clumsy, yet somehow the medicine cats bought it.

Despite how worried she became, Silverpaw tried her best to simply trust her brother. If he said it's all for the best in the end, then that had to be true. Besides, she _was_ seeing some truth to his words, even if it came with a few negative effects. Along with their Clanmates becoming proud of him, Wrenfeather had become notably closer to his apprentice. Stormpaw had also formed even closer bonds to Ferrettail, Dawnstrike, and Rookshade, and whenever he wasn't with those four, Silverpaw, or Thistlestar, he had become almost as short-tempered as Dawnstrike. 

Silverpaw had also seen Icepaw watching him from afar with admiration in her eyes. Every so often, Stormpaw would visit Warblerwing in the medicine den along with Ferrettail—somehow he had convinced the warrior to visit his father, and Icepaw was visibly happy to be in Stormpaw's company. Warblerwing's condition had only worsened over the past moon, though. During the nights, the whole camp could hear the tom's painful coughing fits. Even though Rowanspots hadn't addressed it, Silverpaw knew the warriors were speculating that it was the same incurable illness that had taken the life of an elder from SwiftClan.

The thought of a strange sickness sweeping through the Clans disturbed Silverpaw enough to drive her mind back into focus. Right when she scanned the camp in front of her, she spotted the familiar golden-dappled pelt of Wrenfeather as he approached her.

"Silverpaw, could I have a word with you?" he asked quietly, his emotions guarded safely behind a straight face.

"Sure," Silverpaw nodded hesitantly, feeling worry prickle through her pelt as she followed Wrenfeather away from curious ears. "Is something wrong?"

"No, I'm sure it's nothing," the deputy responded slowly, his impassable expression finally giving way to a look of concern. "It's just—I know that you're closest to Stormpaw. Lately, I've been noticing scratches on his pelt, and—forgive me if I'm simply prying too much—it looks like he ruffled his fur to hide them from me. Do you know anything about this?"

Silverpaw was taken aback by the question, though she was careful not to let her surprise show as she offered a swift response. "Ah, yeah. This is _really_ embarrassing for Stormpaw, so don't tell him I told you, but he's a lot clumsier when others aren't around. He keeps tripping against sharp stones and has gotten caught in _so_ many rose bushes!"

Wrenfeather's concern was replaced by a look of amusement, and he twitched his whiskers in his silent laughter. "And the embarrassment is keeping him from telling me or seeking treatment, of _course._ Thank you, Silverpaw, and don't worry, I won't say a word to him unless it gets worse."

With a grateful nod, Wrenfeather padded away to meet Newtsplash and Cindertalon. Silverpaw breathed a sigh of relief as he left and made a mental note to tell Stormpaw once they had a moment alone. Before she could search for her brother, however, Cricketpaw had approached her. His crestfallen posture caught her eye, and Silverpaw quickly questioned her friend. 

"Cricketpaw? What's wrong?" she asked, stepping closer to him.

"It's nothing serious," the brown tabby responded quickly. He seemed to realize how he was carrying himself and grew embarrassed as he explained it. "I finally talked to my dad, and he said we can't leave camp without our mentors, and if it isn't a patrol then it'd be a waste of time, so . . . ."

"That's too bad," Silverpaw responded quietly, saddened that she couldn't see the cool spot with Cricketpaw. "Maybe once we're both warriors, we can go together! Warriors are always allowed to go _hunting_ even without a patrol!" With a joking purr, Silverpaw nudged her denmate, and felt her heart lift when he brightened up.

"Yeah!" Cricketpaw nodded furiously, "Let's do it!"

They both let out joyful purrs at their future plans, and as they did, Cindertalon padded over from his spot with Wrenfeather. Silverpaw quickly silenced herself and looked to her mentor, wondering if she had forgotten something.

"Have you visited Icepaw and Rowanspots for your traveling herbs?" Cindertalon's words caused a wave of realization to flow over Silverpaw, and her ears quickly heated up with embarrassment when she realized what her mentor was doing. His amber eyes were knowing; he knew that she hadn't received her herbs yet, and was trying to remind her without embarrassing her in front of her denmate. 

"Ah, no, I was just about to see them!" Silverpaw mewed and ducked her head to him before turning to Cricketpaw again. "I'll see you after our trip to Starfalls—and I'll be sure to remember every bug I see on the way there."

She quickly trotted toward the medicine den. Once outside, Silverpaw caught the scent of her brother, but before she could enter the den to greet him, he nosed his way through the lichen curtain.

"Careful," Stormpaw warned playfully when he met her gaze. "The herbs we have to take were the most bitter thing I've ever had to taste!"

Silverpaw rolled her eyes lightheartedly and nudged her brother before entering the medicine den. Inside, she saw Rowanspots rummaging through a messy pile of various herbs. Their scents mingled in the air, tickling Silverpaw's nostrils and nearly tempting a sneeze out of her. They also hid the scent of sickness coming from Warblerwing's sleeping form, tucked away towards the back of the den. Not far from Rowanspots was Icepaw, who watched her mentor curiously.

"Hey, Rowanspots and Icepaw," Silverpaw greeted them hesitantly after eyeing them for a moment. "I'm here for my traveling herbs."

Rowanspots sent a glance upward from her activities, then one toward Icepaw. "Icepaw, take care of that, please. I need to make sure none of our stashes haven't gone bad—one bad leaf could ruin the whole batch, and Warblerwing needs the best we can find."

"Yes, Rowanspots!" Icepaw chirped as she jumped to her paws. The grey molly vanished around her mentor's form briefly before reappearing with a bundle of herbs hanging from her teeth. When she approached Silverpaw, the fluffy molly eyed the medicine cat apprentice for a moment before getting an idea.

"I saw that Stormpaw was already here," Silverpaw mewed softly as she eyed the herbs Icepaw placed at her paws. Then, she raised her gaze to meet the other apprentice's soft green eyes.

"Y-Yeah, he was," Icepaw stammered, nudging the traveling herbs closer to Silverpaw. "Here—eat these. They're going to taste bitter, so consider yourself warned."

"Did he say much?" Silverpaw pressed nonchalantly, though she couldn't lie to herself—it was amusing to see Icepaw stumble on her words over the little crush she'd so obviously formed on Stormpaw. While she waited for a response, Silverpaw leaned over to consume the herbs as directed, ignoring the poor taste they left on her tongue.

"No, not really," Icepaw's voice was a soft murmur this time. "He seems like he's been training extra hard lately, though." Something else hid behind the admiration in her voice, but Silverpaw couldn't place what it was. 

"He really has been," Silverpaw responded smoothly. "Even Wasppaw was impressed, and that's not done easily."

"My brothers would always mention how ill-tempered _he_ is. Especially Falconwing—those two butted heads more times than I could count." As she recalled her brothers' recent apprenticeships, Icepaw let out a soft laugh. Around the grey molly's form, Silverpaw caught a sharp glance from Rowanspots and took it as her cue to leave.

"They sure did," Silverpaw ducked her head as she spoke. Though she felt bad for keeping the medicine cat apprentice occupied, something told her that wasn’t the reason for the medicine cat’s stare. "I should be going—I'm sure Cindertalon, Wrenfeather, and Stormpaw are all waiting for me."

Silverpaw quickly exited the den, flicking her ears as she heard Icepaw utter a farewell. Sure enough, her mentor and the deputy were waiting patiently by the bramble tunnel with Stormpaw nearby. She immediately caught Cindertalon's beckoning glance and rushed across the clearing to them. Then, once the mentors were certain the siblings were ready, they led them out of the camp and towards the RushClan border.

It wasn't long before Silverpaw could hear the sounds of the river, and shortly afterwards she could make out the sheen of the water through gaps in the undergrowth. _I hope RushClan doesn't suffer too much when the snow starts,_ she thought apprehensively as she remembered what she had been told about leafbare. Once the snow starts to fall, almost all of the water sources will start to freeze. RushClan would suffer the most from a long leafbare, since most of their food came from the fish that lived in the river.

"Are you two excited to see Starfalls?" Wrenfeather asked, his tone formal and polite. "I know how excited I was when I was an apprentice."

"Absolutely!" Stormpaw spoke up while Silverpaw considered her response. The grey tom swiped at a tall fern as they passed by, adding, "Rookshade told me you can almost _feel_ the presence of StarClan in the air!"

_Rookshade never struck me as a cat with a connection to the ancestors,_ Silverpaw thought curiously, forgetting to answer the question. _I feel like that would be pretty special—a former rogue having a sense for those things. Then again, his sister_ was _chosen by Rowanspots._

"What about you, Silverpaw?" Cindertalon mewed, interrupting her thoughts. "Are you excited?"

"Yeah, of course I am!" she chirped and twitched her whiskers. "Cricketpaw said it's like another land entirely!" Both of the warriors let out amused purrs of agreement, but Silverpaw didn't miss the way Stormpaw rolled his eyes at the mention of their denmate. _Maybe they had some kind of disagreement,_ she thought, growing a bit wary. She quickly buried her worries, however, as they finally broke through the wall of foliage that hid most of the river from sight.

Wrenfeather took a hard left, leading them upwards along the edge of the river—towards their destination. Silverpaw heard a commotion across the river before they got far, though. She turned her head to see a patrol of RushClan cats on the shoreline of the island that the river forked around. In the group of cats, she saw a light brown tom and a dark grey-and-white tom, along with a dark yellow tabby she recognized from the Gathering. She also recognized Lilypaw, who trotted along with a fish clamped firmly in her teeth.

Just as Silverpaw was about to point them out, Wrenfeather slowed them to a halt and raised his tail as he called out a greeting. "Greetings, Troutslip and friends. Nice weather for fishing, it seems."

"Well, well, if it isn't Wrenfeather!" the grey-and-white tom responded quickly, amusement and friendliness echoing off of his voice. Silverpaw swallowed down her bubbling uneasiness when she realized it was as if the tension between Thistlestar and Wolfstar was just that—between them. "We don't often see NightClan patrols this far along the river. What brings you out this way?"

"Ah, we're taking our apprentices to see Starfalls," Wrenfeather waved his tail toward Silverpaw and Stormpaw as he spoke. "We wanted to get it taken care of before leafbare hits—you know how it is."

"Hi, Lilypaw!" Silverpaw called out as soon as the deputy stopped speaking. The light brown molly perked up at her call, but before Silverpaw could get a response, she saw Wrenfeather's ears perk up out of the corner of her eye.

"So _that's_ the Lilypaw my son has been mooning over," he commented. Deep in his green eyes was a hint of amusement, and Silverpaw remembered how he had siblings in SwiftClan; of course he'd poke fun at his son's crush. She saw Lilypaw freeze at his words, however, and regretted calling out to her. The feeling only worsened when the light brown tom spoke up.

"The handsome apprentice you've been carrying on about is the son of the NightClan deputy?" When the tom spoke, he shot a knowing gaze toward the NightClan cats. Even from across the river Silverpaw could see amusement on his muzzle.

"Dad, shut up!" Lilypaw sputtered out, her fur bristling up with embarrassment. "Reedtuft, tell them to quit it!"

The dark yellow tabby let out a laugh as he came to the apprentice's defense. "All right, you two, let's cut her some slack. Especially you, Mudbreath—StarClan knows you tease your kits more than enough."

"Okay, okay," the light brown tom caved, though his darker-colored ears stayed playfully perked. "I suppose we don't wanna keep those apprentices waiting, either. They must be excited to see Starfalls for the first time."

"That they are," Wrenfeather responded with a glance at Cindertalon, who had remained silent during the exchange. Then he looked to the sun vanishing over the horizon. "It's about time we start moving, anyways. Good hunting to you all!"

"Good hunting!" the RushClan cats called back as Wrenfeather led them further along the river.

As the NightClan cats padded further along the river, they trailed away from the water's edge and back into the shelter of the undergrowth. Silverpaw stayed quiet as she watched the behavior of the toms she accompanied. Cindertalon's amber gaze was fixed on the forest ahead of them, as if he were deep in thought. Wrenfeather had pulled Stormpaw ahead and was talking to him about his training. 

Admittedly, the sight made Silverpaw worried about her _own_ training. Even though they still had several moons to go, she could already tell that she wouldn't be the best hunter in the Clan. Their prey spotted her pale silver fur easily, even when hiding in thick foliage; even with Cindertalon's expert guidance. Her combat could use some work, too, though Silverpaw thought she was doing exponentially better in that field despite her hiccups of unease every so often.

Suddenly, Cindertalon fell back to walk by her side. His wise amber eyes softened as he fixed his sights on the apprentice. "What's going on in that head of yours?" he asked quietly, and Silverpaw mentally thanked him for not drawing their Clanmates' attention.

"I'm just thinking of what Starfalls could be like," she mumbled, struggling to hold her mentor's gaze. Technically, it wasn't a lie—ever since they had left the camp, Cricketpaw's words echoed behind her more dominant thoughts. Unfortunately, though, her words didn't seem to convince the warrior by her side.

"As your mentor, it's my job to notice when something is troubling you," Cindertalon continued with a glance toward the two toms ahead of them. "Especially when others don't sense it. Forgive me if I'm prying too much, but is it the situation with your—"

"No," Silverpaw quickly cut him off with a shake of her head. She knew exactly what he was going to say, and Mintwillow was the last cat she wanted to talk about. "I was worrying about my training."

"Your training?" Cindertalon echoed, confusion visible in his eyes. Then, he glanced ahead to Stormpaw's chattering form. "I hope you're not comparing yourself to the other apprentices; you've been progressing just fine, Silverpaw."

"Have I, though?" she murmured, finally looking away as she saw tendrils of mist start to creep through the undergrowth. "I've got to be the worst hunter in the Clan right now—I can hardly catch half as much as the others when we hunt!"

Cindertalon's tone became sympathetic, and he gave his apprentice an encouraging nudge. "You know, being a good hunter isn't all that matters for a warrior. You've been thriving in everything else, and if I'm being honest, it's not that you're a bad hunter. You can't control your pelt, and I’d say that's the biggest issue for you."

"What if I fail my assessment because I have such a hard time with it, though?" Silverpaw countered, fixing her mentor with her rounded blue gaze. 

"Silverpaw—!" Cindertalon's own eyes widened briefly with shock before he covered it up again with a reassuring expression. "You won't fail just because you don't hunt well, I can promise you that. You've shown that you understand the code, and you can hold your own in battle. I know you don't feel the same right now, but I have total faith in your future as a warrior. Now, look—" when Silverpaw opened her mouth to respond, her mentor beckoned to the two toms ahead of them, who had both stopped in their tracks "—we're here."

Silverpaw looked around and held back a gasp of surprise. Last she had noticed, the mist weaving through the trees only held the form of thin, wispy tendrils—now it was a thick layer above the forest floor, glittering with what she could only describe as stardust from Silverpelt. She could hear the crashing of water echoing from up ahead, but the sight of it was hidden by large-leaved ferns and plants. Stormpaw had frozen in his spot ahead of her, and beside him, Wrenfeather looked amused.

The golden-dappled tom then glanced back toward Cindertalon and Silverpaw before leading the way through the foliage. Cindertalon was quick to follow after him, beckoning for the siblings to follow him with his tail.

"Are you ready?" Silverpaw whispered to her brother as she padded forward to stand by his side. "Do you . . . do you think you'll be visited by that cat here?"

"Hush!" Stormpaw hissed quickly, though his eyes held no anger. "I haven't told Wrenfeather about that yet—only Dawnstrike knows, I think."

"You _think?"_ Silverpaw echoed, growing skeptical of her brother for a moment. Then, she gave a sigh and a shrug of her shoulders. "Alright, if you say so." She playfully flicked his shoulder with her tail before finally pushing aside the leaves that blocked her path, and what rested ahead of her amazed her.

Water cascaded down from a series of ledges into a pool that reflected the earliest twinkles of starlight. The shroud of mist was thickest here, churned into existence by the crashing water and sparkling just like the pool in front of them. If Silverpaw didn't know better, she'd have said that StarClan themselves had descended from Silverpelt to visit.

Near the edge of the pool she heard Cindertalon clear his throat meaningfully, and Silverpaw slowly made her way to his side. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Stormpaw mimic her movements to sit between her and Wrenfeather, who'd found a spot nearest the waterfall.

"Are we too early, Wrenfeather?" Cindertalon asked cautiously with a glance toward the sky. Hints of orange still showed at the edge of the sky, mixing with the lighter blues of the early night sky before they turned dark. Silverpaw tilted her head as she observed it, noticing how with each passing moment she could see more twinkles hidden in the vast blue screen.

"No, we're perfectly on time," Wrenfeather responded with a thoughtful hum. "Stormpaw, Silverpaw, crouch near the very edges of the pool. Then, close your eyes and touch your muzzles to the water."

"It's that simple?" Stormpaw blurted, and Silverpaw caught a glance he sent in her direction.

"Just do it," Silverpaw whispered to him when she noticed Wrenfeather frown at her brother's words. She gave him a soft nudge before she obeyed the deputy's instructions. Slowly, she closed her eyes and leaned forward to touch her muzzle to the water.

The contact of the water, at first, sent chills through her body. Silverpaw immediately lost the sensation of her brother and her mentor on either side of her, or the feeling of solid ground beneath her paws. When she opened her eyes, she was faced with pitch blackness—space so dark that she wondered if she had truly opened her eyes.

While her sight was gone, and any sensation of land had vanished, a strange, indistinct murmur tickled the fur of her ears. At first, Silverpaw couldn't make out what the sound was, though she thought she recognized it. After some time, Silverpaw was able to pick out words from the sound. To put together coherent sentences, she had to concentrate harder than she ever had before.

_"Tᚺey will coᚱrupᛏ the Cᛚans. Don't leᛏ them s̸̝̃͘way yᛟu."_

The sound, even though Silverpaw knew it was some cat's voice, came across as strange and distorted. It was as if whoever was speaking was struggling to reach her—or they were deliberately keeping distance. She wanted to call out and ask what it meant, but when she opened her mouth to respond, nothing came out. In this darkness, she felt entirely alone, and the strange voice didn't help the feeling.

_"A storᛗ is ᛒrewing, and the darᚳness w̶̻͂ill cᛟme for t̴̢͒h̷ose with ᛏuᚱᛗoil within their ᚺea̷̼̽̐̐rts."_

Immediately, Silverpaw thought of the dreams where she had woken up in The Place of No Stars—and of Snowface, the creepy tom who had wanted to train her. The thought made her stomach churn, and when she reminded herself that Stormpaw _still_ trained with who he insisted was a StarClan cat, Silverpaw felt herself grow nauseous. _This is bad,_ she told herself, kicking her legs out at the empty darkness. _I need to tell Stormpaw—those cats are definitely bad news._

Right before she regained consciousness, Silverpaw remembered what Wrenfeather had said at the very start of their apprenticeships.

_"Do warrior apprentices dream like the medicine cats do?" Silverpaw had asked, mystified by the thought of speaking to their ancestors._

If only she had known that StarClan was not the only afterlife—and that those outside of StarClan could harbor malicious feelings toward the Clans.

 _"Only rarely," Wrenfeather had replied with a muffled laugh, as if the mere thought of a_ warrior _apprentice getting prophetic dreams was preposterous. "StarClan hasn't even been talking to the medicine cats so much lately."_

In the fleeting moments between the lightless dream-world and the waking world, Silverpaw decided to act as if nothing had happened. Then, once they were away from prying ears, she'd tell Stormpaw about what she heard. Maybe he'd listen for once and stop the extra training with the nameless molly—no, surely he would. He had to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i like to pretend i wont eventually have to explain wtf is happening in starclan :)


	14. Rising Conflict (13)

Silverpaw padded through the frost-tinged undergrowth, her mouth parted for any traces of the dawn patrol. On the trip back from Starfalls, Cindertalon and Wrenfeather would hardly give her the space to speak to her brother—nor would they in the days to follow. She'd barely had a moment to breathe, let alone tell her brother what she had heard. 

That was life until now, at least. Silverpaw had been sent on a hunting patrol with Cindertalon, Rookshade, and, of course, Mintwillow. Normally, she'd try—and fail—to catch a decent amount of prey, but this patrol was different. She knew that Stormpaw had been assigned to the dawn patrol with Wrenfeather, Sandfoot, and Daisynose, and with Daisynose's wheezing worsening with the colder weather, the patrol would have to travel slowly. It would be the perfect opportunity to pull Stormpaw away for a moment and talk to him.

Rookshade and Cindertalon would be too focused on their hunting to worry about her whereabouts, and judging by Mintwillow's increasing avoidance of them after telling them the reasoning for her behavior, her mother would hardly care, either. Regardless, Silverpaw glanced over her shoulder and followed the hint of a scent trail she had picked up, trying her best to stay downwind and out of sight. Within no time at all, she tracked down the patrol and saw that her brother was trailing at the far rear of the group.  _ He set this up for me perfectly,  _ she thought, twitching her whiskers with amusement.  _ Yet he doesn't even know that I'm here to tell him what I know. _

"Psst!" Silverpaw hissed quietly when she was within earshot. "Stormpaw, over here!"

Stormpaw perked his ears immediately and lifted his head. He faced away from Silverpaw—towards the warriors of the patrol. Daisynose had slowed to a stop, and while Sandfoot checked on her, Wrenfeather scouted a little ways ahead. Then, Stormpaw turned away and crept towards Silverpaw's hiding spot. She peeked her head out of the tall ferns to meet him and beckoned to him with a sharp nod of her head.

"What are you doing here?" Stormpaw hissed incredulously, though Silverpaw thought she saw amusement swimming in his jade eyes. "You're supposed to be on a hunting patrol!"

Silverpaw couldn't help herself as she rolled her eyes. "What I have to tell you is more important than the few scrawny mice I would have caught," she retorted a bit playfully. "You know I'm a terrible hunter." 

"What's so important that you had me sneak away from my patrol to hear?" Stormpaw scoffed a bit, though his ears perked curiously towards his sister. Immediately, Silverpaw leaned forward, ready to tell him the information she'd been holding back for several sunrises.

"At Starfalls, I had a  _ dream," _ she whispered hurriedly. "Well, it was sort of a dream—I was surrounded by darkness, but then I heard this voice. You know what it said?"

"That you have bees for brains?" Stormpaw snorted and tried to give his sister a playful cuff over her ear. Silverpaw ducked around it quickly and let out a huff of annoyance.

"I'm being  _ serious, _ Storm!" Silverpaw muttered with a glance toward the border patrol. "The voice said there's a storm coming, and that the  _ darkness _ will come for cats with turmoil in their hearts!" 

"Okay, and?" Stormpaw tilted his head, looking confused. "Why'd you have to tell me in secret like this? Just tell Rowanspots or something."

Silverpaw let out another frustrated huff and fixed her with a serious look. "I had to tell you in private because I want you to stop your sleep-training! Those cats are bad news, and they're  _ not _ trying to help you." Stormpaw looked taken aback for a moment before he narrowed his eyes.

"What are you talking about?" he snapped quickly, disbelief flaring in his eyes. "Nothing you said points to them being bad!"

"No, it does!" Silverpaw insisted desperately. "When they tried to train me, the tom who came to me—Snowface, he said that he could notice the  _ turmoil in my heart. _ That  _ can't  _ be a coincidence!"

"It certainly is," Stormpaw grumbled quickly, his disbelief turning into an anger that made Silverpaw feel uneasy. "You know how important my training is to me! How could you ask me to stop?"

"Because they're  _ bad news," _ Silverpaw insisted weakly, holding her brother's gaze. "The fact that the molly in your dreams told you to seek out the rogues—no, the fact that she won't even tell you her  _ name _ is suspicious enough! Those cats are in that forest for a reason."

"You don't know anything," Stormpaw growled quietly. "You don't even know the cat that took you out of there, or the one that spoke to you at Starfalls, do you?"

"I– I don't think that cat  _ could _ reveal their identity," Silverpaw stammered as she realized she was just as guilty as her brother. "And I told you, at Starfalls, it was nothing but pitch black."

"Excuses," Stormpaw muttered, rolling his eyes. "I won't stop my training with her, Silverpaw. You may think it's bad, but it will turn me into a stronger warrior. I told you to just trust me."

"I can't trust those words when I just confirmed that they're no good," Silverpaw mewed slowly, trying to measure her words before she spoke them.

"You don't trust me?" Stormpaw gasped softly, looking hurt. "Silverpaw, I'm doing this for both of us."

"I never said that I don't trust  _ you," _ Silverpaw hissed quickly when Stormpaw grew upset. "I can't trust that this training is good for you—" 

A sudden screech broke through Silverpaw's words, and both she and her brother rushed toward the sound, ducking through the undergrowth until they found Cindertalon cornered by three rogues. In the middle, a tiny black-and-white tom snarled at Silverpaw's mentor, and he was flanked by two mollies; one pale brown, the other brown with dark ginger markings. Cindertalon faced them bravely despite having his back against a tree.

As soon as she peeked through the undergrowth, Silverpaw caught Cindertalon’s gaze and felt herself freeze up. Then, the dark grey tom gave her the tiniest of nods. Not a word needed to be spoken for her to understand what she needed to do.

“Stormpaw,” she whispered under her breath, trying not to alert the rogues that threatened Cindertalon. “When Cindertalon signals it, we attack. Got it?”

“W-What?” Stormpaw hissed in response, flicking his tail hesitantly. “Shouldn’t we fetch reinforcements? Wrenfeather had to have heard the yowling as well, he’ll be here any moment—or Rookshade, I know he was on the hunting patrol with you!”

“I have a feeling Rookshade is already nearby,” Silverpaw muttered quickly, her eyes locked on her mentor’s form. “You’ll know the signal when you see it—just do it, Stormpaw!” As she spoke, Cindertalon reached down to the loose earth beneath his paws before thrusting a pawful of it into the air and straight into the eyes of the rogues.  _ I know he’d never be cornered so easily!  _ Silverpaw thought, and she bunched her muscles up before launching herself out of the shadows. Beside her, Stormpaw gave a surprised gasp, but he didn’t move to help quite yet.

Once she faced the now-furious rogues, she realized that Cindertalon’s trick had only caught the two mollies by surprise. The small-framed tom growled and quickly picked up on Silverpaw’s presence, turning his body to keep them both in his sights.

“That’s the oldest trick in the book,” he snarled, his claws unsheathed and glinting in the early sunlight. “You’d have to be a mouse-brain to fall for that. And for what, a single fledgling to come to your aid?”

“Badger, shut up and  _ attack  _ them!” the pale brown molly hissed, her green eyes glinting as she blinked the debris out of them. “And remember what Shade said!”

The tom rolled his softer green eyes and, without another word lunged at Cindertalon while his accomplices recovered from their temporary blindness. Silverpaw moved to leap to her mentor’s side, only to be cut off by the pale brown molly. She towered threateningly over Silverpaw, and soon the other molly joined her.  _ Stormpaw, hurry up and get out here! _ she thought desperately, feeling panic start to claw at the edges of her being. As soon as she thought it, she felt a presence at her side, but when she turned she saw the familiar black pelt of Rookshade instead of her brother. The older tom nodded encouragingly at Silverpaw and fell into a defensive stance.

“I thought I could make the fight fair,” he murmured half-jokingly as he turned his amber gaze onto the mollies in front of them. “Surely two grown rogues fighting a new apprentice is a bit overkill—or perhaps you’re lacking a moral compass, considering how you cornered my father here?”

Silverpaw narrowed her eyes at them and noticed how they exchanged an exasperated glance. Without a warning, they lunged at her and Rookshade with their claws and teeth bared. Silverpaw let out a gasp and ducked away from the brown-and-ginger molly’s claws, immediately searching for an opening while ignoring the looming panic that welled inside of her . Beside her, Rookshade and the pale brown molly fought with claws flying, though each looked to be more defensive than offensive. Quickly, she returned her focus to her opponent and swiped beneath the molly's towering form, trying to throw her off balance.

Suddenly, the rogue let out a snarl of annoyance and dealt a powerful blow to the side of Silverpaw's face. Though the impact stung and sent her reeling a few pawsteps back, somehow it drew no blood. Before Silverpaw could recover from the blow, yowls rang through the trees—voices she recognized. She shook her head to clear her daze and looked up to see Wrenfeather and Sandfoot rushing into sight with Stormpaw close behind them.

By the time her Clanmates could launch their attacks, the rogues had already started to retreat. They fled into the forest with their tails streaming behind them; the fight, as quickly as it had started, was over.

"We must return to camp immediately," Wrenfeather ordered as soon as they were out of sight. "Cindertalon, gather your patrol and any prey that was caught. I want you all seen by Rowanspots upon your return. Sandfoot, return to Daisynose and ensure she gets back to camp safely. Stormpaw, with me."

Without another word, and without waiting for a response, Wrenfeather bounded in the direction of the camp. Cindertalon cleared his throat and padded up to Silverpaw. He beckoned Rookshade over with his tail, and once his son was near, he fixed them both with a serious gaze.

"Go together and collect any prey that you've caught. I'm going to collect mine and find out where Mintwillow went off to—it's odd that she hasn't shown up yet." Cindertalon raised his head and surveyed the wall of undergrowth that surrounded them. "Don't leave one another's side, and if you encounter another of those rogues, drop your prey and run back to camp. Understood?"

"Yes, Cindertalon," Silverpaw mewed quickly, her ears growing hot as she remembered that she hadn't caught a thing. Rookshade offered a silent nod from beside her, and then Cindertalon stalked off into the forest, his ears perked for the slightest sound of danger.

"Let's collect yours, first," Rookshade offered once his father had vanished from sight. "I stored mine in a hollow tree close to the camp, so we can get it on the way."

"I actually didn't catch anything," Silverpaw said quickly with a shrug. "I'm still having trouble learning how to hide properly, s-so I scared off everything I saw." Even though it was a blatant lie, Silverpaw tried her best to sound convincing. When Rookshade eyed her for a moment, she grew worried and wondered if he had seen through her bluff.

"Okay," he chirped suddenly and took up a swift pace toward the camp. "That makes our return faster, then. You didn't get hurt, did you?"

Silverpaw noticed how the tom eyed her out of the corner of his eye and set her gaze straight ahead of them. "No. I only got hit once, but it wasn’t bad. Why?"

"Just checking." Rookshade stopped once they reached the tree he mentioned and reached a paw inside to pull out a vole and a dove. "I didn't want to set too fast a pace for you or anything, even if we did just get attacked." Then he picked the prey up in his jaws and resumed their swift pace. He didn't say another word until they returned to the camp, and neither did Silverpaw; sometimes the black-furred tom seemed so unapproachable in his casual silence.

Once outside the bramble tunnel, they stopped and checked for evidence of Cindertalon and Mintwillow's return. Silverpaw stifled her unease when she didn't detect a trace of their scents and, after sending Rookshade a glance, she entered the camp. Inside the clearing, cats were gathered, their worried voices filling the air as they fretted about what had happened. Thistlestar stood in the center of the camp with Wrenfeather at his side, his wispy-furred tail tip twitching as he awaited the return of the patrols.

"Silverpaw, Rookshade—where are Cindertalon and Mintwillow?" Wrenfeather demanded as soon as he saw them. The deputy rushed forward while Stormpaw sat back, his green eyes glittering with uneasiness.

"Cindertalon sent us to collect our prey while he went to find Mintwillow," Rookshade explained with a glance at Silverpaw, who shuffled her paws and looked back toward the camp entrance.  _ Where are they? _ she worried.

"What do you mean?" Thistlestar spoke this time, bounding forward worriedly. "Is Mintwillow missing?"

"Well, we split up to hunt," Silverpaw spoke slowly, her uncle's behavior unnerving her. "As one does. When the rogues attacked Cindertalon, though, she's the only one who didn't show up."

Before Thistlestar or Wrenfeather could respond, Cindertalon appeared through the main entrance. A few pieces of prey hung from his mouth, but he was alone. He hesitated when the attention of the Clan fell to him, but recovered quickly and set his prey at his paws.

"I couldn't find Mintwillow, but I was able to pick up on her scent trail. There was no sign of blood so I decided to return before trying to track her down," the dark grey warrior spoke, surprisingly calm and collected after what had just happened. "After being attacked by rogues, it seemed better to have a search party rather than a single cat searching."

The clearing fell silent—so silent, in fact, that Silverpaw could make out the faint coughing of Warblerwing and Vinecrawl from the medicine den. The younger molly had joined him shortly after the apprentices returned from Starfalls, though according to Rowanspots and Icepaw, Vinecrawl was much more receptive to treatment. Warblerwing's condition, however, continued to worsen as time passed.

"Very well," Thistlestar spoke suddenly, his tone bearing an unusual coolness. "Newtsplash, Ferrettail, and Sandfoot, I want you to search for Mintwillow. Cindertalon, are you injured?"

"No, sir," Cindertalon responded, ducking his head to the leader. "I've a few scratches, but I'm not urgently in need of treatment."

"Follow them from the shadows. Stay out of sight and make sure they come back unscathed—I don't want another ambush on my warriors." Thistlestar gave a glance to each of the warriors he called out, and they quickly filed out of the camp. Cindertalon quickly carried his prey to the fresh-kill pile and deposited it before following their Clanmates.

“Rookshade, Silverpaw, deposit your fresh-kill and see Rowanspots for any wounds you have.” Thistlestar turned to them, and when Silverpaw met his gaze, she saw just how stressed he had become. She decided against telling him she had no prey, nor any wounds to be seen; instead, she shared an uneasy glance with Rookshade and sent it to Stormpaw as they passed him. He, like the rest of their Clanmates, had remained silent. However, while  _ they _ provided a stunned silence, Stormpaw’s silence was more of an uneasy, yet stormy one. 

“Thistlestar, we need to warn the other Clans,” Wrenfeather spoke up as the young cats made their way toward the medicine den. Rowanspots was quick to meet them outside; now that  _ two _ elders were sick in her den, she didn't want the rest of the camp entering it out of the fear that they'd pass the sickness onto the other elders.

"And have Wolfstar throw his disdain in our faces again?” Thistlestar snapped, startling Silverpaw while Rowanspots checked her over. She’d become painfully aware of how much distance Rowanspots tried to keep while inspecting her. “I won’t tolerate his behavior any longer, Wrenfeather.”

“He’s old and probably senile. You know that the other Clans are on our side.” Wrenfeather idly twitched his tail tip as he spoke, and Silverpaw noticed how the remaining warriors nodded in agreement.  _ He’s right,  _ she thought, noticing how Rookshade sent a glance in her direction when he thought she wasn’t looking. No, maybe he had hoped for her to catch the look he gave her.

“What about Mintwillow?” Mistypool asked quietly from Daisynose’s side. “What if they don’t find her—what will we say if someone asks?” For a moment, Silverpaw felt a pang of pity for her grandmother. Having your daughter disappear into thin air like this, it had to be terrifying for the old molly.

Thistlestar hesitated, conflict apparent in his amber eyes. “Cindertalon said he saw no blood on her scent trail. If she doesn’t come back, then we can only assume that she left of her own volition.”

“So, what? We just keep her disappearance to ourselves?” Daisynose spoke up this time, her breathing less ragged than usual.

“. . . for now, we do. I’ll send out more search parties if they don’t find her, but I know Mintwillow. If she’s gone, it’s of her own free will, and she wouldn’t go with the rogues without putting up a fight.” Thistlestar looked away from his mother and her sister. His tone seemed dark to Silverpaw, as if he knew more about this than he was letting on.

“Thistlestar,” Rowanspots spoke up this time as she moved on to check Rookshade for wounds. “I know she’s your sister, but the timing is . . . .”

“I know.” Thistlestar let out an exasperated huff as he looked to the medicine cat. In doing so, Silverpaw caught his gaze for a moment, and when she did, it almost felt  _ apologetic. _ “I know how it looks, and that’s why we aren’t going to tell the other Clans yet. I just need you all to trust me.” 

Just as he said that, the search party he sent out returned through the camp entrance. Sandfoot led them, followed closely by Ferrettail and Newtsplash, and then Cindertalon. Immediately, the Clan turned their full attention onto the warriors. Silverpaw looked them over and noticed that Mintwillow wasn’t with them, and that they each shared the same dark expression.  _ She really just . . . left, then?  _ she questioned in her head before turning her gaze back to her uncle.  _ Just how much  _ did _ you know? _

“Mintwillow’s scent trail led out of the territory,” Sandfoot addressed Thistlestar before anybody could ask what they found. “To the north. There was no sign of blood, nor any fear-scent, and none of us picked up traces of rogues on the trail.”

Quickly, the clearing erupted into worried chatter, and many threw questions at Thistlestar, As it progressed, Silverpaw became lost in her own worries—so much so that she nearly forgot the friendly, carefree mask she tried so hard to keep up. She let her gaze travel to Stormpaw and found that he had stopped by to speak to Rookshade after Rowanspots left them. His jade eyes were unusually dark and angry, and a scowl rested on his face as he spoke under his breath to his friend.

“Stormpaw,” Silverpaw murmured in an attempt to catch her brother’s attention. She crept a bit closer to him, wanting to connect with her brother again. After their short-lived argument earlier, she desperately needed to clear the air. Instead of responding to her, however, Stormpaw rose to his paws and walked away without sparing her a glance. Silverpaw held back a frown as she watched her brother approach Dawnstrike at the other side of the clearing. As soon the two started talking, Ferrettail seemed to gravitate toward them. 

“Hey,” Rookshade mumbled suddenly, startling Silverpaw. “Are you okay?”

“Me?” Silverpaw responded quickly, feigning ignorance as she offered him a friendly glance. “Of course I am.”

Rookshade only offered a doubtful huff before he pressed. “Are you sure? I know your mother was already being unfair to you and Stormpaw. This can’t be easy.”

With a start, Silverpaw realized that her brother must have told him—if not, it wasn’t like the entire Clan didn’t already know about their family drama. She quickly looked away from Rookshade and offered a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders before saying, firmly, “All I care about is the fact that we finally found the truth.”

“You didn’t get good treatment, though,” Rookshade retorted casually, though there was a new bite to his words.  _ I am  _ not _ discussing this right now, _ Silverpaw thought quickly as she put up an emotional guard to deflect his words. However, her desire to drop the conversation then and there was far outweighed but her sudden flare of what felt like anger at the thought of her mother.

“I never asked for good treatment,” Silverpaw countered after a moment of thought, finally turning to meet Rookshade’s gaze again. His amber eyes hardened suddenly, though he stayed still where he sat.

“You deserved it.” His voice carried a deeper intent with it, something that Silverpaw couldn’t quite place; the feeling it gave her made her look away.

She kept her mouth shut, though her mind was racing for a response and her heart stuttered in her chest. What was she even supposed to say to that? What  _ could  _ she say? Instead of speaking, she only stared at a cluster of pine needles on the floor of the clearing.  _ Did I deserve it, though?  _ she thought, her worries starting to gnaw at her.  _ The rogue Mintwillow mentioned—I can't even begin to imagine what that felt like for her. Then to have two kits that look so much like him . . . would I act any differently? _

"I'm sorry," Rookshade murmured after a moment. "I went too far—I shouldn't have said all of that."

"N-No," Silverpaw stammered, the frailty of her own voice surprising her. "It's fine. Thank you, Rookshade."

After that, they fell silent, but neither of them made a move to leave. It was a somewhat comfortable silence, but eventually it grew awkward, and once again Silverpaw found herself searching for something to say. Rookshade seemed to shift where he sat, and when she looked at him, she realized that his amber eyes were traveling slowly over the clearing, as if he were monitoring the conversations and behaviors of everybody else.

"Did the rogues hurt you at all?" Silverpaw asked hesitantly, looking over his pelt. She thought of how, even though the blow to her face during the fight was strong, the rogues drew no blood.

"I have a few small scratches, but it was nothing serious," Rookshade responded slowly, turning his gaze on her again. "You didn’t get hurt, either."

"Yeah," she murmured, not registering how he didn't even have to ask if she was hurt. "It's . . . a little weird, isn't it? Why are they staging these attacks if we aren't really getting hurt?"

"Maybe they want our attention for something," Rookshade mused thoughtfully. "Remember what you said after the last attack?"

Silverpaw thought for a moment, searching her memory for the words she had uttered. "Yeah, I do. I still think they had help, somehow."

"So do I." His sudden validation of her own suspicions took Silverpaw by surprise, and the feeling was apparently evident on her face as he continued. "They must have something tying them to NightClan—otherwise, the more realistic targets would be BlazeClan, RushClan, or even MistClan. They want something from us, but they aren't trying to hurt us—and they've found ways through our territory without raising our suspicions until they attack."

"Who do you think is helping them, then?" Silverpaw whispered. Her gaze traveled again toward her brother, who still sat with Dawnstrike and Ferrettail. Suddenly, she feared the answer Rookshade would come up with. She tried to ignore the way her heart started to stutter again, though this time it was more painful.

"I'll admit, for a moment, I was suspicious of Mintwillow." Rookshade flicked his tail tip as his words demanded Silverpaw's full attention. "Her distance, the fact that she tried so hard to keep the identity of your father a secret—I mean, everyone knows now that he  _ was _ a rogue, but did she even tell  _ you _ his name?"

"No . . . ." Silverpaw thought with a frown. "No, she didn't." 

"And now, with her disappearance during an attack, it's all so suspicious to me," Rookshade continued when he saw Silverpaw's reaction. "But if my father agrees with Thistlestar that it was unrelated, I guess my own suspicions are null. What about you, though?"

"M-Me?" Silverpaw asked quietly, Rookshade's sudden ranting taking her a bit by surprise. 

"Who do you suspect?" he voiced his question further, his curious gaze watching Silverpaw intently.

As her gaze found her brother again, she felt beads of doubt and dread form within her. "I don't know," she admitted, forcing out a sheepish laugh. "Anyways, I'm sure the Gathering tomorrow will be interesting, don't you agree?"

Rookshade eyed her more seriously at that, the action sparking even more worry inside her. " . . . yeah, it sure will be!" he finally agreed, closing his eyes cheerfully. Silverpaw internally breathed out a sigh of relief as they started talking about less serious things, and every so often, her gaze would stray to her brother again.  _ He wouldn't jeopardize us like that, _ she promised herself.  _ It's like he said—he's only seeking out extra training to be better, right? But if he won't listen to me about those cats from that dark forest . . . . _ Silverpaw held back a shudder and quickly banished the thoughts. This could be something she worried about after the next Gathering—even if she didn't get to attend, she'd make sure to ask all about it.


	15. Tales of the Rogues (14)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silverpaw and Stormpaw get to hear a little bit of backstory on the rogues of Twolegplace during their second Gathering, and third moon as apprentices!

Silverpaw let out a short puff of air as she followed her Clanmates into the clearing beneath the Gathering Stones. Almost all of the other leaders sat atop them—she could pick out Wolfstar, Vinestar, and Lichenstar, though it was apparent that Buzzardstar hadn’t arrived yet. Thistlestar had decided to take extra time on their journey to the Gathering, though the apprentice couldn’t figure out why her uncle would do that.  _ Maybe he wants us to arrive last,  _ she thought curiously.  _ It  _ would _ help him avoid casual chatter, and maybe that’s for the best, since he wants all of us to stay quiet about Mintwillow. _ Ever since the events of the day before, Thistlestar hadn’t spoken a word to Silverpaw or her brother—whatever his true thoughts were, he made sure to keep them to himself. Regardless, both of the siblings had been permitted to attend the Gathering, and Silverpaw felt more excited than Stormpaw looked.

While her brooding brother trailed near the edges of the group, Cricketpaw stayed by Silverpaw’s side as they met the other apprentices; or rather,  _ apprentice. _ Only Lilypaw sat at the usual spot for apprentices, and Silverpaw had to hold back the worry she felt.  _ Don’t get ahead of yourself,  _ she scolded herself quickly.  _ SwiftClan doesn’t even  _ have _ apprentices right now, and the last BlazeClan apprentices were warriors by your first Gathering! _ Briefly, Silverpaw glanced over her shoulder and noticed how Ferrettail, Falconwing, and Cindertalon each found spots a bit away from the warriors of other Clans. Dovesong, however, was quick to find the molly that Silverpaw recognized as Goldenflame along with a tortoiseshell who had green eyes. Silverpaw didn’t recognize her, but after a moment realized that she must be the other sister that Goldenflame had mentioned on a border patrol once; Turtlepelt.

“No Wasppaw tonight?” Lilypaw’s voice broke through Silverpaw’s silent observations, and she realized that they’d reached the apprentices’ spot sooner than she anticipated.

“Nope, sorry, Lilypaw,” Silverpaw responded quickly, instinctively taking on a bit of a teasing tone. Then, she grew apologetic and glanced back at the chattering crowds of cats. “I’m sorry for how much everyone teased you the other day—I shouldn’t have called out to you like that.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” Lilypaw gave a playful roll of her eyes. “My father always teases me and my siblings like that—even Riverpaw, who doesn’t seem to be the slightest bit interested in the  _ romances  _ of life.”

Silverpaw had to hold back a snort at the RushClan apprentice’s words as she pointed to a dark bluish-grey molly at the medicine cats’ circle. She immediately realized that it must have been Lilypaw and Webpaw’s sister, Riverpaw. Even though they couldn’t be more than a moon older than Silverpaw, the medicine cat apprentice seemed to exude an air of wisdom and confidence, even from so far away.

“Hey, Silverpaw?” the light brown molly spoke again, her voice carrying a sudden edge of curiosity. When Silverpaw gave a questioning hum in response, Lilypaw gave her a nudge and continued speaking in a hushed tone. “Why does your brother always look so angry?”

Silverpaw sat up straight and glanced around before noticing that Stormpaw had remained detached from the other apprentices, his expression as dark as it had been the previous day. “That’s just how he looks,” Silverpaw stammered out and tried to force a lighthearted laugh, though she was pretty sure it just made her sound nervous. “Don’t think too much into it, Lilypaw.”

When Lilypaw didn’t press the question, Silverpaw decided that her words had been convincing enough, though she held back a relieved sigh.  _ That would just lead to a conversation I can’t have with anyone right now, _ she reminded herself sternly. Once more, the crowds of warriors caught her attention as she noticed the familiar pale orange fur of Sandfoot as he padded to meet a warrior from SwiftClan, just like Dovesong had. Though it wasn’t just any warrior—it was Sorrelfrost, the molly that he’d been seeing. On his path to meet her, though, Sandfoot nearly tripped over his tail. Lilypaw let out a snicker from beside Silverpaw, apparently having seen the same stumble.

“That’s one of your Clanmates, isn’t it?” she asked Silverpaw, her whiskers twitching in amusement. “He’s so clumsy around that molly!”

Silverpaw found herself holding back laughter as she agreed. “He’s a little quiet, but I’ve never seen him fumble like that!”

“Is this the first time you’ve seen him and Sorrelfrost together?” Cricketpaw chimed in, making Silverpaw jump a bit. She nearly forgot that she wasn’t alone with Lilypaw. “They’re so terrible!” The three apprentices let out a short bout of laughter just as the bushes on the edge of the clearing rustled. They silenced themselves as Buzzardstar entered the clearing with her own Clan on her tail. Silverpaw didn’t recognize many of their warriors, but she noticed the same white tom from her first Gathering—Absent, with the scar on his face. Buzzardstar quickly climbed the Tallrock as her deputy found a spot among the lower ledges, and her medicine cats joined those of the other Clans.

“Glad to see you’ve made it,” Silverpaw heard Thistlestar speak kindly as the chattering slowly died down. “Since you were the last to arrive, perhaps you’d like to go first, Buzzardstar?”

“That’s kind of you, Thistlestar,” Buzzardstar murmured with a bow of her head before she stepped forward to make announcements. “I’m happy to announce that there have been no more rogue traces within our borders—this time, it’s certain. Our medicine cat apprentice also received her full name at the last half moon meeting—she now goes as Honeyberry, and is a full-fledged medicine cat!”

Though the BlazeClan announcements were short, the Clans cheered for the newest medicine cat’s name. The brown-and-white tabby swiftly nodded to Lichenstar, signaling for her to announce next. The fluffy ginger-spotted tabby stepped forward a few paces, her expression as soft and friendly as ever as she gazed out over the five Clans. “Hickoryseed has had four healthy kits, and even though we’re facing the start of leaf-bare, they seem like strong additions to MistClan. We also have two new warriors to announce; Vixencloud and Sneezestorm!”

As the Clans once again erupted into celebratory calls, Silverpaw found herself rearing onto her hind paws to single out the new warriors. She easily recognized Vixencloud’s ginger tabby pelt among her Clanmates, and her black-furred brother sat beside her. Their heads were raised proudly as their names were called, and Silverpaw swallowed down a surge of pride.  _ You only met Vixencloud once!  _ she swiftly reminded herself. She watched as Lichenstar turned to glance over the remaining three leaders. The MistClan leader seemed to take interest in Vinestar, who looked like she was trying to make herself appear smaller.

“Vinestar, would you like to go next?” Though Lichenstar spoke softly, her voice seemed to carry all the way across the hollow.

“U-Uhm—” Vinestar stammered as the attention of the Clans fell to her, but she quickly gave in. “Sure, thank you, Lichenstar. As you all know, a strange illness has overcome the elders of SwiftClan. Two moons ago, Palespirit passed due to the illness. Only a few sunrises ago, Snakefang passed as well. Bristlehawk shows no sign of recovering, and Goosepounce, our most recent elder, seems to have caught it, as well. There's, erm, nothing else to report for SwiftClan."

Just as Vinestar turned to face Thistlestar, movement from the medicine cats caught everyone's attention. A pale brown tabby rose to his paws, his gaze set on the five leaders as he prepared what he was about to say.

"It's practically leafbare, and this strange illness has forced me to deplete almost all of my herb collections," he mewed, distress lacing his voice. "If my fellow medicine cats have anything extra in their storages, would the leaders allow them to help me cure our elders?"

"Cypressleaf!" Vinestar hissed quietly, looking painfully uncomfortable. Beside her, Wolfstar looked almost disgusted by the sudden request, though Buzzardstar and Lichenstar remained friendly.

"We've not had a single sickness yet," Buzzardstar addressed the SwiftClan medicine cat smoothly. "If need be, my warriors are even willing to escort my medicine cats into the Twolegplace to find the more uncommon herbs."

"Same with us," Lichenstar spoke up, offering a firm nod. Below them, Silverpaw noticed two of the medicine cats voicing their agreement; one a dark tortoiseshell molly, the other an older, dark grey tabby. She also saw that a fluffy ginger molly gave the slightest of nods, but the medicine cat glanced warily up at Wolfstar as she did so.

"I'm sorry to hear of SwiftClan's suffering," Thistlestar mewed when Vinestar motioned for him to take his turn in announcements. "I'd offer to help, but some of our own elders have grown sick, as well—Vinecrawl and Warblerwing, to be exact." When Thistlestar paused, Silverpaw found herself eyeing him from her spot with the apprentices; he was clearly unsure if he should reveal the state Warblerwing was in.

Below the leaders, Wrenfeather let out a purposeful cough, and Thistlestar recovered from his momentary hesitance. "There was another rogue attack on one of our hunting patrols. All of the wounds were superficial, but what's troubling me is the fact that these rogues have passed through our territory almost entirely undetected. I've no theory as to why they'd choose to target us, but I implore you all to stay on your guard should they change their focus." 

Thistlestar had hardly finished speaking when Wolfstar let out a raspy chuckle. A thick silence crept over the clearing at his behavior, and Silverpaw could see that some of the cats from the RushClan ranks looked uncomfortable. She could recognize Mudbreath easily after her trip to Starfall—along with Troutslip and Reedtuft, though the former of them was with two mollies who were strangers to Silverpaw.

"Is something funny, Wolfstar?" Her uncle's tone made her blood freeze over inside her veins. Though he still sounded kind, there was a hint of challenge to it that she rarely detected. Wolfstar, however, was unphased, his scruffy fur moving with the shrug he offered in response.

"Those rogues seem to be quite interested in your Clan, Thistlestar," the RushClan leader responded idly. "I doubt the rest of us have anything to worry about."

"We'll keep our wits about us, don't worry," Vinestar quickly assured Thistlestar, while Buzzardstar nodded after she gave an exasperated huff.

"Yes, we'll all stay vigilant, even if Wolfstar thinks it's unnecessary," Lichenstar added. Silverpaw noticed how she sent a cool glance toward the RushClan leader all while keeping a friendly expression on her muzzle.  _ She's good at that, _ she thought in admiration.  _ Maybe I could learn something from her if I come to more Gatherings. _

Before Silverpaw could get lost in her thoughts and observations again, Wolfstar stepped forward to make his announcements. "I see I chose well to leave my elders at our camp this moon," he started, his crude words surprising Silverpaw. "The rest of you are riddled with such sickness."

"Wolfstar!" a surprised gasp came from the broad-shouldered silver molly below him; his deputy. 

"Oh, calm yourself, Ripplewater," Wolfstar responded smoothly with a dark glance at her. "You know I jest. Anyways, there have been no new happenings for RushClan this moon. We hope you all recover promptly from whatever has been causing your distress."

Silverpaw felt her heartbeat falter when she noticed that, as Wolfstar fell silent and motioned for his Clanmates to take a moment to chatter with everyone, Thistlestar looked like he wanted to say something. Thankfully, he seemed to think better of it and keep it to himself.  _ We don't need two arguments like that in only three moons!  _ she thought, shuddering at the idea of what it could lead to. Beside her, Lilypaw looked more uncomfortable than ever, even as idle conversations began to echo across the clearing once again.

"Are you okay?" Silverpaw asked the RushClan apprentice, eyeing her carefully. "Wolfstar always seems to say things that the rest of you don't agree with."

"Y-Yeah, he does that a lot," Lilypaw admitted, looking towards her Clanmates. "I'm sorry if he's ever said anything to offend you or your Clanmates."

"Ah, no, it's fine," Silverpaw lowered her voice as she responded, struggling to hide a playful tone. "We just say that he's old and call it even."

Together, the two mollies erupted into hushed snickers. Silverpaw wove her relief into her laughter, glad that her words seemed to cheer up the light brown molly at her side. Suddenly, Lilypaw stopped laughing and turned away. Her gaze was fixed on the dark blue-grey cat at the medicine cats' circle, and Silverpaw had to remind herself that it was Lilypaw's sister.

"Silv, don't look now, but I think you've got an admirer," Lilypaw whispered suddenly, her voice sharp with a teasing tone. Confused, Silverpaw looked more closely at Riverpaw, but the molly didn't even acknowledge her existence.

"What are you talking about?" she asked quickly, glancing around as she felt her ears heat up with embarrassment.

"What part of  _ 'don't look'  _ don't you understand?" Lilypaw snorted and knocked into Silverpaw playfully. The action enticed another burst of laughter from Silverpaw, though she remained curious as they settled down once more.

"Seriously, though, what are you talking about?" Silverpaw asked. Her mind only drew a blank when she tried to think of who Lilypaw could be talking about.

"You don't seem like the oblivious type!" Lilypaw taunted, her yellow eyes bright with amusement when her words flustered Silverpaw yet again. Then, the light brown molly lowered her voice before saying, "Cricketpaw has been mooning over you all night! Though, I can't say I blame him; the moonlight reflecting off of your fur  _ does _ have a bit of an entrancing effect."

"S-Shut up!" Silverpaw squeaked as she became even more flustered. She elbowed Lilypaw playfully, telling her to cut out her teasing while her thoughts went to her Clanmate.  _ Cricketpaw's been mooning over  _ me _? _ she thought in astonishment. Part of her wanted to glance to her other side to see if it was true, but she knew the action would give her away.

"Hey," Lilypaw let out a laugh and returned the elbow to Silverpaw's side. "I'm only returning the favor from my patrol the other day!" 

"Don't get too rowdy, apprentices," a sudden voice startled them both. Silverpaw glanced ahead of them and saw a pure-white tom walking by, and remembered he was a BlazeClan warrior named Absent.  _ He spoke up at my first Gathering! _ she realized.  _ And he had that cool-looking scar! _ Quickly, Silverpaw and Lilypaw obediently ducked their heads to him, though the former eyed him in search of the scar. She realized that, with how he carried himself, Absent made sure neither of the apprentices could see it.

"I hope you're not bossing my apprentice around, Absent." Cindertalon's deep voice, rife with amusement, startled Silverpaw even more than Absent's sudden appearance. Her mentor padded up to them casually, sending a glance in Silverpaw's direction before his gaze landed on the BlazeClan warrior.

"Oh, come on, Cinder," Absent teased back, his intense amber eyes shining in the moonlight. "You know I would never." Suddenly, he turned to fully face the group of apprentices. As his scar came into sight, Silverpaw found herself enthralled by the sight of it—it was jagged, crawling from his cheek to his neck and parting the fur around it.

"Silverpaw—" Cindertalon's scolding voice quickly snapped her out of her daze, but Absent interrupted him quickly.

"It's okay, Cindertalon, I can tell she doesn't mean anything by it," he reassured the dark grey tom quickly. Then, he turned his attention back to the apprentices. His gaze lingered on Silverpaw as he said, "Do you want to hear the story of my scar?"

Silverpaw felt her ears heat up in embarrassment, and she sent a hesitant glance at Cindertalon. When her mentor gave her a nod, as if to tell her it was okay now that Absent had offered, she mewed, “U-Uh, sure—only if you’re okay with that, of course.”

“Gather ‘round, then, apprentices,” Absent mewed a bit louder with a warmhearted chuckle. Silverpaw glanced around and realized that both Cricketpaw and Lilypaw had become interested in Absent. Even Stormpaw had begrudgingly started scooting closer, though Silverpaw could see the telltale twinkle of wonder in his eyes. “It’s no secret that I used to be a rogue—my sister, Amberlight, as well. To be entirely truthful, most rogues actually don’t care to wander into Clan territory—the Clans don’t pick fights with them, so they don’t see a reason to do so. There’s one group, however, that gained an interest in the Clans over time. They’re led by a molly who goes by the name of Sister Shade, with a large tom named Oasis working as her second-in-command. They also serve as a . . . protection service, so to speak. All those that fell into line with this group were promised protection, not only for them, but for their families as well. Since it was only Amberlight and I, life in the city—what the Clans call  _ Twolegplace _ —was more of a struggle than it is for most.”

“How come?” Lilypaw spoke up, tilting her head curiously. “Wouldn’t you be perceived as less of a threat with less numbers?”

“You also come across as easier to control,” Cindertalon answered the question, his amber eyes seeming distant to Silverpaw.  _ Is he remembering his life there?  _ she wondered, remembering what Rookshade had said about his mother. “It’s similar to why the Clans often work together against large enemy forces.”

“The bigger groups wanted to take advantage of us, but  _ nobody _ held more influence and power than Sister Shade and her followers. Naturally, I went to her to ensure that, above all else, Amberlight would be protected.” Absent paused, a look of weary regret making its way onto his muzzle. 

“That’s so noble,” Stormpaw whispered out, his voice much closer than Silverpaw expected. She glanced at her brother and saw that any trace of his previous ruminations had vanished. Instead, it was replaced by a look of awe.

_ “It was the worst mistake of my life,” _ Absent took on a tone of warning as he shot Stormpaw a look. “Over time, they started asking me to do things I’d have never even considered. They wanted me to harm innocent cats—oftentimes cats more defenseless than Amberlight and I were. If I didn’t comply, they’d threaten to hurt her instead. Eventually, I decided to leave Sister Shade’s leadership. Oasis approached me and asked me to reconsider; he knew the consequences of leaving, and in the seasons that I followed them, we formed a brotherly bond. Even he couldn’t stop Sister Shade’s rage, nor could he go against her word. I knew this, and in the end, my decision was final.”

“Her rage?” Silverpaw echoed, shuddering at the thought of a cat so horrible rising to power.  _ I guess we should be thankful that Wolfstar is only old and cranky,  _ she thought to herself.

“Yes.” The scarred tom’s voice grew grim, and his eyes grew dark as he recalled the memories of life as a rogue. “To desert Sister Shade is a deathwish. As soon as she heard of my choice, she asked to meet me in an alleyway where the Twolegs pile up discarded prey, old bedding, and other strange, tattered things—I thought she wanted to convince me to stay, just like Oasis had. I told Amberlight to run into Clan territory in case things went south. When I met with her, she had her closest followers at her side. Even Oasis was there, and as soon as I met his gaze, I knew what was to become of me.”

The group of apprentices collectively let out gasps at the implications. So many thoughts were running through Silverpaw’s head, and once again she glanced at her mentor. In his serious amber eyes was a surprising flash of remembrance, as if he, too, were familiar with the group that Absent spoke of.  _ Rookshade said that when his mother grew ill, some other rogues wanted to ask the Clans for help!  _ she reminded herself.  _ This group doesn’t sound like the type to ask for help at all! _

“You don’t have to continue, Absent,” Cindertalon spoke gently and suddenly, surprising them all.

“No, it’s okay,” Absent reassured him once again, his expression softening despite how heavy his tone remained. “Sister Shade ordered her followers to attack me. There were only six or seven of them at the time, but they were the most brutal of all her followers. When I tried to defend myself, they threw me from a stack of crates—cold, square stones made of Twoleg materials—and onto a sharp, cold object that gave me this scar. Usually, objects like this were upright and filled with the strange tattered objects I mentioned before, but this one was all bent out of shape. I nearly lost consciousness at the impact, but I remember how they took me to a smaller river that runs through the city and threw me into it. The next thing I recall, I was waking up on the shore just outside of BlazeClan territory. Amberlight was there, trying to patch my wound up with her . . . rather  _ limited _ knowledge of herbs. She said she ran into some Clan cats who offered her shelter, and she helped me get to their camp. And now . . . well, here we are.”

While the other apprentices burst into excited chatter, Silverpaw couldn’t help but become lost in thought. Even Stormpaw had forgotten about his brooding behavior and was asking Absent a flurry of curious questions, each of which the BlazeClan tom dodged easily. Suddenly, Silverpaw realized that something about what Absent said sounded familiar.  _ That molly he spoke of . . . Sister Shade? Why do I feel like I’ve heard that before?  _ she pondered as her gaze drifted to Cindertalon once more.

Shortly after Absent finished his story, the leaders called to their Clans and leapt down from their perch. Silverpaw stuck close by her mentor’s side as they returned to their camp, eyeing him carefully for the entire trip. While she wanted to ask him if he knew the cats that Absent had spoken of, she also did  _ not _ want to overstep any boundaries or dig into an uncomfortable past.  _ If he wants to share it, he will,  _ Silverpaw decided after several long moments.  _ I’m sure he doesn’t want an annoying apprentice prying, anyways.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i make so many gathering chapters and while i am so sorry i am also definitely not hhh
> 
> this is my way of making my secret side-note bundles known to you guys, but i really love the warm social feel of these scenes. idk if any of you are authors, write a gathering scene with some tavern music going. you'll see what i mean ;; there are like 2 or 3 more gathering chapters to come (so far) but theyre so easy to PACK with juicy interactions and information


	16. Caught (15)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate title: Angstpaw Thinks Too Much

Stormpaw kept his eyes on Rookshade as his friend spoke to him about the border patrol he had just returned from. Ever since Mintwillow had vanished, Stormpaw had requested that Rookshade keep an eye open for anything out of the ordinary. Even now, countless sunrises later, there was no trace of the silver-and-white molly.  _ Good riddance,  _ he thought sourly to himself.  _ She can stay gone, for all I care—she was only making our lives harder. _

“That’s unfortunate,” was all he could muster in response, every time. Though his responses were short, Stormpaw could tell that Rookshade never could pinpoint his feelings on the subject. He often caught his friend searching his own gaze in an attempt to discover said feelings. This time, Stormpaw turned to the grey-and-white molly who sat with them; he’d keep his conflicting emotions hidden away. “Icemint, what do you think?” The medicine cat apprentice had earned her full name only a day prior, at the last half moon. Even though Thistlestar hadn’t held a ceremony for her, news circulated the camp soon enough.

“I’m sure Mintwillow had her reasons,” Icemint mewed tentatively. She eyed Stormpaw, worry mixed in with her usually timid expressions. “I could see that she felt bad for how she treated you and Silverpaw; maybe she felt like she didn’t have a choice.”

Stormpaw held back a scoff, not wanting to offend Icemint—after all, he’d been the one to ask for her input. “Yeah, maybe,” the grumble was the only thing that escaped him.

“Speaking of Silverpaw,” Rookshade murmured quietly, almost hesitantly, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about, Storm.”

“What is it?” Stormpaw asked quickly, his ears perking towards the black-furred tom. If something had happened to his sister without his knowing, StarClan help whoever—

Suddenly, Rookshade let out a dramatically weary sigh, cutting through Stormpaw’s darkened thoughts. “Ever since the last Gathering, she’s been practically stuck at Cricketpaw’s side. I don’t know what happened, but she hardly speaks to me—not that she ever talked to me much to begin with, but still.”

Stormpaw only stared at Rookshade, blinking a few times as he registered the words. Of course, Silverpaw had grown smitten for Cricketpaw; it was something Stormpaw saw happening from the start, even if he hadn’t realized the truth of it right away. It only made sense, considering how close the two had always been.

“What do I do, Stormpaw?” Rookshade pressed, his exasperated performance ebbing away when he didn’t get an answer. _“_ _ You’re _ the one who wanted me to keep her attention. Throw me a mouse, here.” The words seemed to shock Icemint, but Stormpaw hardly noticed her reaction. Instead, he recalled the day he had requested such a thing.

_ “You could get hurt, Silver,” Stormpaw muttered to his sister when she spoke highly of Cricketpaw, though not at all to his surprise. Cricketpaw was nice enough, sure, but Stormpaw still felt unsure of their denmate. _

_ “Isn’t that just part of life?” Silverpaw’s response, though a soft murmur, was quick; as if she was prepared to counter her brother’s words. Even so, she tilted her head innocently, her blue eyes wide.  _

_ Stormpaw eyed her skeptically for a few moments, Then, rising to his paws, he said, “We should get ready for our patrol.” Without waiting for a response, he padded away from his sister and toward Rookshade, Falconwing, and Icepaw. On the way there, he wondered what Wrenfeather and Thistlestar could possibly be thinking—the situation with Mintwillow, he felt, was nearly explosive at this point. Maybe nobody said anything, but  _ he _ could feel the pent-up feelings boiling over for every cat involved. _

_ “Hey, Stormpaw,” Falconwing greeted, as friendly as he’d ever been, even with few words. Stormpaw met his amber eyes and offered a nod, then another to Icepaw, before turning to face Rookshade. _

_ Rookshade’s amber eyes met his. The young warrior’s gaze was unwavering and understanding; he, alongside Dawnstrike and Ferrettail (and now the strange molly in his dreams) were the only ones who tried to understand how he felt. And now, Rookshade understood that Stormpaw had approached only to speak to him and not his siblings. Stormpaw leaned forward, close enough so that he could whisper to Rookshade without anyone else hearing his words, and said: _

_ “I need you to keep an eye on Silverpaw when I can’t.” His words were as unwavering as Rookshade’s understanding. They hung in the air between them—though there wasn’t much—even as he continued. “Keep her attention, however you have to.” Rookshade didn’t offer a word in response, only an ear-twitch of confirmation. _

“Why don’t you get her something she likes?” Icemint’s uncharacteristically exasperated voice brought Stormpaw out of his memories. As she let out an equally irked sigh, Stormpaw glanced at her briefly.  _ Something she likes?  _ Suddenly, something came to mind.

“She likes voles,” he stated plainly, not quite sure what else to offer. “Get her one.” 

“That’s it?” Rookshade blinked slowly at Stormpaw’s words. “I don’t think a  _ vole _ is going to be enough.”

“I mean, yeah, I guess. She never cared much for birds, or rabbits.” Stormpaw let out a sigh that almost mimicked Icemint’s previously exasperated tone. “I dunno, just improvise if it doesn’t work. I trust you.” Rookshade stiffened a bit and looked up at the slowly-sinking sun. To Stormpaw, it looked like he was holding back a frustrated groan.

“. . . why am I doing this again?” the dark tom asked slowly, sounding genuinely annoyed for once. 

_ Besides the fact that I told you to?  _ “It’s the best way to protect her,” Stormpaw mewed. Even though he was able to withhold his desired response, he couldn’t help the frown that made its way onto his muzzle. “Especially now that we don’t seem to be on speaking terms.”

“Wait, what?” Icemint jolted a bit at his words. “Since when?”

“Oh yeah,” Rookshade spoke more casually, letting his gaze fall back down to his sister and friend. “What even happened between you two?”

Stormpaw resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and instead he offered a shrug. “She just didn’t agree with my extra training. She’ll learn to accept it, though; I’m doing it for her.” As he said it, Stormpaw’s thoughts of his sister were suddenly overrun by those of Mintwillow. Most of his Clanmates had already moved on from what happened, the exceptions being Daisynose, Mistypool, Dovesong, and Newtsplash. Thistlestar pretended as if he weren’t bothered by her disappearance, and Ferrettail acted no different, even though Stormpaw remembered seeing him with Mintwillow several times at the start of his apprenticeship.

“About that—!” Icemint spoke suddenly, her green eyes narrowing in a scolding manner. “Don’t push yourself too hard, Stormpaw. You’re already almost as good as Rookshade was at his  _ warrior _ ceremony. Our Clanmates certainly seem to think so, at least.”

“Thanks,” Stormpaw muttered after scoffing quietly.  _ I’m still not good enough,  _ he thought bitterly, though he knew voicing it would only bring on overwhelming reassurance. He heard a soft cough echo out of the distant medicine den and his angry thoughts washed away. “Hey, how are Warblerwing and Vinecrawl doing?”

“Not good . . . .” Icemint's affectionately-stern expression fell as she glanced toward her shared den. “We’re going to be in the same spot as SwiftClan if this keeps up. Rowanspots doesn’t know what’s causing it, and neither does SwiftClan’s medicine cat, Cypressleaf.”

“We aren’t gonna have to ask for herbs from the other Clans, are we?” Stormpaw asked with a grimace as he recalled how embarrassed Vinestar looked when Cypressleaf asked for help. He didn’t want the other Clans to expect something in return, either.

“Asking medicine cats for help is different than asking Clan leaders,” the newly-made medicine cat responded as if she had read Stormpaw’s thoughts. “We can’t afford to be ravaged by sickness this early in the season—it hasn’t even snowed yet!”

“She’s right,” Rookshade chimed in thoughtfully. “We just lost a warrior  _ and  _ we’re being targeted by rogues. This is a really bad time to have such a serious epidemic.”

Stormpaw nodded slowly and remembered how he saw even the RushClan medicine cat silently offer assistance to the SwiftClan medicine cat. Even when a leader is embarrassed to ask for help, or reluctant to give it, their medicine cats seemed shamelessly willing to do both. Then, as he fully registered Rookshade’s words, he was reminded of the rogues.  _ I wonder when Dawnstrike and Ferrettail will introduce me to them,  _ he thought almost too casually. As always, he ignored the foreboding feeling he got when those thoughts overcame him without so much as a warning. 

Just as he was about to embark on another of his meaningless internal monologues, movement caught his eyes. Daisynose was approaching Thistlestar, her cream-and-grey fur somewhat disheveled and her eyes unusually sad. Stormpaw watched as she murmured something to his uncle, who nodded in understanding and quickly climbed onto the Highroot.

“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather below the Highroot!” he called out, though he hardly needed to. Most cats were already in the clearing; some were returning from patrols, some were preparing to leave for their own patrols. Others, like Stormpaw, Icemint, and Rookshade, were engrossed in quiet conversation as they relaxed in between duties. Regardless, Stormpaw remained performatively curious as he peered up at Thistlestar.

“Daisynose—” the mostly-white tom spoke, his voice warm as he watched the old molly slowly pad closer to him. “—is it your wish to give up the name and duties of a NightClan warrior, and instead join the elders?’

“It is,” Daisynose rasped softly in response.

“Very well.” Thistlestar blinked slowly—reassuringly—and nodded at his aunt. “Your Clan honors you and all the service you’ve given to us over the moons. I call upon StarClan to give you many more moons of rest and happiness.”

“Daisynose! Daisynose!” The Clans’ chanting of her name startled Stormpaw, though he was quick to join in. As Daisynose bowed her head and padded to the elders’ den, he wondered if Mistypool would be joining her anytime soon. His grandmother was in arguably better physical shape than her sister, but even  _ she _ wasn’t able to escape the claws of old age. When Daisynose was greeted warmly by Lynxtail and Snailbelly, Stormpaw suddenly wondered if he’d be treated so kindly when it was his turn to retire. The unusually-intrusive thought shocked him;  _ why _ would he be worried about that when he was still only an apprentice? 

Stormpaw was mentally berating himself for entertaining such thoughts when Dawnstrike approached him. He’d hardly even noticed that Icemint had left to tend to the sick elders, or that Rookshade had left to try and speak to Silverpaw. Briefly, there was a silence between himself and the cream-furred molly that  _ almost _ invaded his personal space. While he was eyeing her, silently waiting for whatever she had to say, he realized she was visibly considering her words. It had been nearly two moons since her outburst about her feelings toward Thistlestar, and neither of them had brought it up again. The memory hung over their heads every time they trained together, neither of them willing to show just how suffocated they felt by its presence.

“Meet me at moonrise,” Dawnstrike finally said, her voice curt and quiet. “At the secret entrance.”

At her words, Stormpaw glanced up at the now-setting sun and realized it wouldn’t be long until moonrise. By the time he returned his gaze to Dawnstrike, he was met with empty space and realized that the warrior had left as quickly as she had approached.  _ She can be so infuriating sometimes,  _ he thought suddenly, wondering what his uncle saw in such a brash molly. Surely she wasn’t always like that, though; during their nighttime training, Stormpaw  _ knew _ he saw a liveliness in her eyes that he never saw anywhere else. In the camp, it almost seemed like she felt caged in by their Clanmates; restricted by their expectations, perhaps.

With a sigh and a shake of his head, Stormpaw decided he’d return to the apprentices’ den until moonrise. He rose to his paws and padded toward it, but when he realized Wasppaw was  _ sulking _ in his nest, he quickly backed out of the den. Briefly, Stormpaw grew tempted to ask Wasppaw what had happened, though the urge was quickly snuffed out by the realization that he didn’t really care that much.  _ He’s probably mad that he didn’t get to see Lilypaw at the Gathering,  _ he decided with a tiny roll of his eyes. 

As he entered the clearing once again, Stormpaw let his gaze travel over the camp. He could check on Warblerwing and Vinecrawl, though he was still unsure of the younger elder after what she said about Icemint becoming the next medicine cat. There was also the option of hanging near Rookshade until it was time to leave, but with how observant his friend seemed to be, he'd probably follow Stormpaw out of the camp at moonrise.

"I guess I'll just . . . sit alone over here," he grumbled to himself as he found a secluded spot in one of the corners of the camp. 

Even though he expected to be bored out of his mind, moonrise came fast enough. Stormpaw made the time pass by observing his Clanmates, much like Rookshade did; he watched their actions curiously, pondering over them only briefly before turning to watch the next. Before he knew it, it was time to meet Dawnstrike.

The walls of the camp hid the moon from his sight; his only determination of the time was based off of the emptiness of the camp, and the darkened, star-covered sky. Stormpaw carefully crept to the front entrance and weaved through the secret tunnel. When he exited, he found only Dawnstrike; Ferrettail was nowhere to be seen.

"Fer's staying with Warblerwing," Dawnstrike whispered before Stormpaw could ask about it. "We need to be quick and quiet; Wrenfeather put two cats on guard duty tonight, so come on."

Stormpaw frowned but kept his mouth shut as he followed Dawnstrike through the forest. They stayed concealed in the undergrowth as they snuck around the guards, and then she led him north. The path she took was different than usual, and Stormpaw was quick to realize she wasn't taking him to their usual meeting place. Before long, they were at the edges of their territory, peering into unknown land.

". . . Dawn—"

"Shut up and climb this tree," she ordered quickly with a glance over her shoulder.  _ That was weird, _ Stormpaw thought, though he quickly obeyed and climbed the tree she motioned to. She was hot on his tail, and didn't hesitate to nudge him along a thick branch that crossed over another tree's branch a little ways away from the border.

Dawnstrike had him climb down from there, and then led him a few fox-lengths further before stopping at the edge of a clearing. Stormpaw perked his ears as he heard idle chatter coming from ahead, and sent the warrior a questioning glance. 

"Just follow my lead," she hissed quietly. Suddenly, the voices silenced themselves, and the warrior winced before quickly leading Stormpaw into the clearing. Ahead of them stood four cats, three of which he quickly recognized from the attack on Silverpaw's hunting patrol. The tiny black-and white tom, a pale brown molly with uncomfortably-striking green eyes, and the brown molly with dark brownish-ginger markings. There was an unfamiliar cat, a younger, slender grey molly with the warmest green eyes Stormpaw had ever seen.

Immediately, Stormpaw grew wary of them.  _ She took me to meet the rogues, unannounced  _ and _ without Ferrettail?  _ he thought incredulously, though a stolen glance at Dawnstrike told him nothing.

"Oh, it's only you, Dawn!" the black-and-white tom laughed after a tense moment of silence. "Where's Ferrettail at? It's not often you show up without him—especially not with new company."

_ New company?  _ Stormpaw resisted the urge to glance at Dawnstrike again. Clearly, she had brought cats to the rogues before. Just how long had they been doing this?

"We can't stay long," Dawnstrike responded hesitantly, interrupting Stormpaw's thoughts. "I only wanted to introduce Stormpaw—like I've said, he shows promise. Ferret's father is still sick, so he's spending time with him; my mother is ill, as well, so our meeting will have to be short tonight."

"Well, you're always welcome here, Dawn!" the tom purred a little too affectionately. Stormpaw couldn't help how he narrowed his eyes at the rogue, who then turned to him. "And, of course, it's good to finally meet the infamous Stormpaw!"

"Infamous?" Stormpaw echoed softly, holding his gaze steadily.

"Oh, yes; Dawn here says that your  _ entire _ Clan is rather impressed by your swift progress—"

"So?" the apprentice snapped suddenly, though he’d be lying if he said the tom’s words didn’t flatter him.

"—and they’re equally wary of that little  _ attitude  _ of yours." Immediately, the unnamed tom's facade dropped as his eyes darkened with an intimidating, almost twisted amusement.

There was a chuckle from beside him as the pale molly padded forward. "You'll fit in just fine here," she mewed with an approving nod. "I'm Orchid, and this sleazy tom is Badger."

"I'm Ricochet," the striped molly spoke up, looking annoyed with her companions' behavior. "Don't let Badger's antics fool you—I'm the oldest of this lot, and I'm in charge when our superiors aren't around. Nyx, introduce yourself."

"Hi," the slender grey molly mewed slowly, though her soft voice was unwavering. "Obviously, I'm Nyx. It's nice to meet you, Stormpaw."

"Same to you," Stormpaw responded slowly and dared another glance at Dawnstrike. Though he was skeptical of the rogues, they seemed nice enough—well, except for Badger. Something about the friendliness between him and Dawnstrike made him feel uncomfortable, but his Clanmate acted as if it were something she’d grown used to.  _ Is this part of why she’s so horrible to my uncle?  _ he thought, though he didn’t dare voice what was on his mind.

“Make sure you’re well-acquainted with them, Stormpaw,” Dawnstrike instructed after she shared a few quiet words with Badger. “We’re leaving soon, but next time we train, we’ll be meeting with them again.”

Stormpaw only offered a nod in response. Embarrassingly enough, once his skepticism ebbed away, he felt more awkward than anything. What was he even supposed to say? The older rogues seemed more interested in what Dawnstrike had to say. Nyx, though, stayed near Stormpaw and asked him about his life in NightClan. Every time she asked a question that he felt was too revealing, he’d find a way to dodge around it; sometimes he’d turn the question around on her, sometimes he’d ignore it entirely.

After some time, a few white specks of snow fell into his field of vision, and he started a bit. Stormpaw immediately remembered Icemint’s comment about how they hadn’t seen the first snow, and he felt a sense of dread bubble deep inside him. With a glance at Dawnstrike, he saw that the sight of snow had surprised her, as well.

“Dawnstrike, we should go,” he whispered after padding a bit closer to her.

“You’re right. Head back toward the border, cross on the branches just like before.” Dawnstrike rose to her paws as Stormpaw bowed his head to the rogues in farewell. He heard her utter her own farewell, and when he glanced over his shoulder, he saw that Badger brushed his muzzle against hers affectionately.

Stormpaw held back a scoff and didn’t wait for Dawnstrike to catch up as he climbed the tree and crossed over the border. He set a steady pace for himself as he padded toward the camp, though, and before long, the warrior had caught up to him. They walked in silence together, but when they neared their camp, Stormpaw’s sense of dread only increased. There was an air of horror and panic coming from the camp; he exchanged a worried glance with Dawnstrike and picked up their pace.

“Something’s wrong,” he hissed as they neared the secret tunnel. “What could have happened? We weren’t gone that long—”

“I don’t know—follow me through, but wait for me to emerge quietly before entering the camp.” Dawnstrike didn’t wait for his response before she started crawling through the tunnel, and Stormpaw wasn’t keen on the idea of disobeying her. Quickly, they crawled toward the main entrance, and as they neared it, he heard the voices of all of his Clanmates.  _ There’s no way we’ll get in without being seen,  _ he fretted when he realized the predicament they were in. Ahead of him, Dawnstrike seemed to accept their fate as she entered the camp. Almost immediately, Stormpaw heard someone approach her.

“Dawnstrike?” the hiss belonged to Sandfoot, who sounded concerned rather than upset. “Where have you  _ been? _ Warblerwing had a fit and—”

“Where is Stormpaw?” Thistlestar’s furious voice interrupted Sandfoot’s hushed one, and Stormpaw felt his heart drop even further than he thought was possible.

Somehow, Dawnstrike sounded calm when faced with their leader’s rage. “Relax, Thistle—we were just out for some nighttime training.”

“Under  _ whose _ authority?” Thistlestar’s voice growled in response. Stormpaw shuddered a bit; he hadn’t heard his uncle become so angry since his first Gathering. “What were you even  _ thinking, _ Dawnstrike? What if you had been attacked by rogues—”

“I said  _ relax, _ Thistlestar,” Dawnstrike retorted coolly. “Stormpaw, come on out.”

To Stormpaw’s surprise, Dawnstrike said nothing else, and neither did Thistlestar. A heavy silence fell over them, though Stormpaw could still hear the fretting that came from the rest of their Clanmates.  _ What happened to Warblerwing? _ he worried as he slowly emerged from the tunnel and entered the main clearing. Almost immediately, he was met with Thistlestar’s withering gaze. A searing mixture of disappointment and worry swam in his usually-soft amber eyes. They both opened their mouths to speak at the same time, but Dawnstrike beat them to it.

“See? He’s fine, no need to worry,” she snapped, rolling her eyes as she regained her usual irritable composure. “Sandfoot, what were you saying about Warblerwing? What happened?”

Sandfoot seemed uncomfortable in the newfound tension between Dawnstrike, Thistlestar, and now Stormpaw. “He . . . he had a coughing fit, Rowanspots wasn’t able to stop it and now he’s not responding to anyone or anything. She thinks—”

“Oh, StarClan,” Dawnstrike hissed as she cut her brother off again. “Where’s Ferrettail—is he okay?” Quickly, she rushed off toward the medicine den with Sandfoot at her tail. As she left, Stormpaw caught an apologetic glance from her and held back a sigh of frustration.  _ Of course she’d leave me to face Thistlestar alone,  _ he thought as he turned to meet his uncle’s harsh gaze. Behind the leader, he saw a flash of pale silver, and realized that Silverpaw was hovering nearby, her blue eyes round with worry.

“Uncle Thistlestar—” he started slowly, not sure what he was expected to say.

“Nighttime training with  _ Dawnstrike?” _ Thistlestar interrupted him, his tone incredulous. “Stormpaw, what— what made you think this was a good idea?” 

“What do you want me to say?” he grumbled in response. His words, he quickly realized, were a mistake. Anger flared in Thistlestar’s eyes, and Stormpaw tensed as his uncle breathed out a deep sigh through his nostrils.

“Meet me in my den,” he ordered sternly. “I’ll be there soon with Wrenfeather.”

Stormpaw couldn’t help how he flinched when Thistlestar spun around and stalked off to find the deputy. He frowned and trudged to the leader’s den, not even noticing when his sister rushed up to walk beside him for a few moments.

“I didn’t tell him anything,” she whispered quickly, sounding more worried than she looked—as if an unfinished argument hadn’t hung over their heads ever since Mintwillow vanished. “He kept asking, but I promise, I didn’t. Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” Stormpaw quickly assured her, trying to keep his voice from wavering. “We were just training, that’s all. Don’t worry, okay?” When Silverpaw finally nodded at his words, Stormpaw nudged her a bit and entered Thistlestar’s den. Before long, his uncle and mentor entered the den, both of their expressions stormy with disappointment.

“I knew that you’d been taking lessons from Dawnstrike and Ferrettail, but I didn’t think you were sneaking out at night for them,” Wrenfeather started without hesitation. “I thought that once I started training you more, they would  _ stop, _ actually.” 

“What’s so wrong about getting in extra training?” Stormpaw snapped, quickly bristling due to how cornered he felt. “You’ve seen how fast I’ve progressed—I’m doing  _ great _ thanks to them! Everyone can see it!”

“It’s not how we train apprentices,” Thistlestar spoke this time, eyeing Stormpaw carefully. “You train with the mentor assigned to you, and that’s that. No more of this nighttime training with those two—understood?”

“. . . yes, uncle Thistlestar,” Stormpaw muttered reluctantly when he realized he wouldn’t be able to get a word in edgewise.  _ It’s not like they can really stop me— _

“I’ll make sure there’s an extra guard positioned  _ inside _ the camp from now on,” Wrenfeather spoke up, interrupting Stormpaw’s thoughts. The dark grey apprentice quickly cursed himself as he held Wrenfeather’s gaze, trying not to glare at him. “If you want extra training that badly, Stormpaw, then I’ll make sure you get it.”

“Thank you, Wrenfeather. I’d appreciate it if you could make sure the rest of the Clan doesn’t panic much over Warblerwing’s state; I still have a few words to share with my nephew.” When Warblerwing bowed his head and retreated from the den, Stormpaw shuffled his paws anxiously.

“Uncle Thistlestar . . . ?” he started quietly, glancing up at the white-furred tom. He had been so sure that they were finished scolding him, but apparently he was wrong.

“Stormpaw,” Thistlestar mewed slowly, his anger finally subsiding to make way for visible stress. The leader hesitated, as if he wasn’t entirely sure what to say. Finally, he sighed and said, “Silverpaw was worried sick about you, but she refused to tell me anything she knew about your whereabouts. How much does she know about this?”

“O-Only a little bit,” Stormpaw admitted slowly, frowning as guilt swept through his body. “I didn’t mean to make her worry, I just—”

“Is this because of what happened with Mintwillow?” Thistlestar interrupted suddenly, his amber eyes softening. Then, he sat down, though he didn’t look any less stressed. “Stormy, I tried to do everything I could—”

“Don’t call me that,” Stormpaw grumbled angrily and looked away. “What if it  _ was _ because of her? You didn’t see how much she hurt Silverpaw. I  _ have _ to protect her, uncle Thistlestar. I won’t let her get hurt like that again.”

“Are you doing it for Silverpaw, or for yourself?” Thistlestar continued gently, tilting his head at the apprentice. “I won’t try to excuse Mintwillow’s actions, but I knew when she decided to leave that she  _ genuinely _ felt like she didn’t have another choice. I know it hurts, and it was wrong of her to leave you both in the dark, but it’s the truth.”

“Whatever,” Stormpaw hissed and rose to his paws. “Can I go, now?” He hardly waited for Thistlestar’s response as he left the den, only to freeze at what he saw.

Icemint and Rowanspots were gently carrying Warblerwing’s lifeless body from the medicine den. They laid him down in the center of the clearing before carefully assorting various leafy herbs in his pelt. Rowanspots was quick to turn away and return to her den, but Icemint seemed to hesitate. Suddenly, she met Stormpaw’s gaze, and leaving to follow her mentor seemed to happen all too easily. Stormpaw only watched her leave helplessly.

Outside the medicine den, he realized that Ferrettail sat in the dark, his green eyes glinting as he stared at his father’s limp body. Stormpaw shuddered at the brown-and-white warrior’s expression, and though he wanted to, he couldn’t look away.  _ Maybe it’s better to stop our training sessions, _ he thought slowly as he tried to process the death of Warblerwing on top of everything else that had happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more and more characters show how shady they can be with each chapter, this is honestly so fun to write even while im juggling the point of view


	17. Mistakes (16)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm tweaking the chapter setups today--removing allegiances and instead linking to the interactive website for anyone who wants to see the cast lists, so I'm uploading this early! im also creating little private playlists for each story so far, and im *considering* putting the fics into a series to signify that theyre connected. :>

Stormpaw stared at the soft layer of snow that covered the camp clearing, and at the flakes that continued to float down. Two moons had passed since he had been caught with Dawnstrike—two moons since Warblerwing’s death—and they were the most miserable two moons of his  _ life _ . Wrenfeather kept one eye on him at all times, so he could hardly even interact with Dawnstrike and Ferrettail without receiving some scolding words from his mentor. Every night, a second warrior had been positioned just inside the camp entrance; Stormpaw knew it was because of him, though he couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty for it.  _ It’s almost like they knew I was meeting the rogues,  _ he thought to himself.

Despite his thoughts, Stormpaw was certain that nobody knew about why they had been out—with the obvious exceptions of Dawnstrike, Ferrettail, and perhaps Silverpaw. Just as Stormpaw couldn’t interact much with the warriors who had trained him, they kept their interactions with him curt and short-lived. Vinecrawl had miraculously recovered from her illness, and now Dawnstrike seemed to spend more time with her elderly mother and uncle, Snailbelly; meanwhile, Ferrettail hardly spoke a word to any cat aside from Dawnstrike. Occasionally, he’d hold a short conversation with Wrenfeather. Stormpaw never knew what was said, though, and he suspected it was about him. The thought made his fur crawl uncomfortably.

Rookshade and Icemint had noticed the attention that had been placed on Stormpaw, and the former certainly didn’t let him suffer without light-hearted comments. He assumed it was done in an attempt to cheer him up, but even now as they sat together, waiting for Cricketpaw and Wasppaw to finish their warrior assessments, Stormpaw found himself frustrated with his friend.

“Wrenfeather has really been watching you today,” Rookshade commented, not looking up from the skinny, half-eaten mouse at his paws. “If I didn’t know better, I’d assume you got into another fight with Wasppaw.”

Stormpaw immediately let out a mildly annoyed groan, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Rook, go talk to Silverpaw or something. I really don’t need to hear those kinds of things right now.”

“Okay, okay,” Rookshade snorted and stood, though he clearly wasn’t bothered by the apprentice’s attitude. “You’re so moody all the time. At least Silv provides some good conversation.” He wasn’t wrong; while Stormpaw had only grown more fickle, Silverpaw had finally started warming up to Rookshade. For some reason, though, the black-furred tom’s words only added to Stormpaw’s aggravation, and he found himself nearly hunching over in an attempt at suppressing his emotions. Suddenly, Icemint let out a gentle laugh, and he snapped his head up to face her.

“What?” he questioned, eyeing her carefully. “What’s so funny?”

“You’re just so easily provoked,” she let out another soft giggle. Then, she averted her gaze and said, “But, I mean, it’s in a cute-sort-of-way.”

“H-Huh?” Stormpaw reeled back, the molly’s words taking him by surprise. He found himself stumbling over words immediately, struggling for a few moments before finally settling on, “You’re crazy.”

“See? That’s exactly what I mean!” Icemint erupted into a fit of laughter when she realized just how flustered Stormpaw had become. He felt his ears burning up in embarrassment when she kept laughing.

“Ugh, whatever, just—” Stormpaw bristled and glared self-consciously at the snow that piled at his paws. “Cut it out, okay?” Over the passing moons, Icemint had become less timid around Stormpaw—even less meek than she was with her brothers, or their father. Still, Stormpaw wasn’t used to the warm, bubbly feeling he got when they were together.

“Alright, fine,” Icemint murmured as her laughter subsided. “It’s good to see you relax every once in a while, you know. Rookshade might joke about it a bit, but Wrenfeather really has kept a close eye on you ever since that night.” Both of the cats cringed a bit when she mentioned the night of Warblerwing’s death; the curly-furred tom had been admired by many in the Clan, and most cats were still mourning in their own ways.

“Tell me about it,” the apprentice finally grunted, looking back up from the ground. “I can’t catch a break with him!”

Wrenfeather hadn’t been lying when he promised to give Stormpaw the extra training he was so desperately seeking. Whenever he wasn’t supervising the apprentice’s whereabouts within the camp, he was pushing him harder at the training clearing. Stormpaw thought his muscles would never stop being sore; even the molly in his dreams had noticed and taken their training a bit easier, though she pressured him to meet with the rogues again. 

Stormpaw glanced in the direction of the deputy and saw that he and his sister, Dovesong, were deep in conversation. Cricketpaw sat a few tail-lengths away, his amber eyes round with excitement.  _ When did he even get back from his assessment?  _ Stormpaw wondered, though he quickly banished his thoughts when he saw that Wrenfeather was still glancing toward him every so often.

“Come  _ on!”  _ he muttered angrily before letting out a sigh of frustration. “It’s been two whole moons! Can’t he ease up a bit?”

“He just wants to make sure you’re safe, Storm—I know  _ I  _ worry about the random cuts and scrapes you sometimes get,” Icemint mewed gently. Stormpaw glanced at her, and saw that her green eyes were drifting over his pelt cautiously.  _ Does she know that I lie about being so clumsy?  _ he thought, trying to hide the shock that coursed through him. With her next words, however, his worries vanished. “What if the rogues had attacked you that night? They’ve become even more brazen when trespassing on our territory!”

“They didn’t attack me, though,” he mumbled hesitantly.  _ They wouldn’t have—not with Dawnstrike at my side.  _

“But they could have,” Icemint pressed worriedly. Instead of voicing his thoughts, Stormpaw only grumbled a few incoherent words in response. After all, he decided, it was only fair, wasn’t it? When he thought about it, he realized that Dawnstrike and Ferrettail were under equally close surveillance. He could see Dawnstrike’s frustration as plain as day, though Ferrettail, as quiet as he had become, acted as if he didn’t notice it.

With another glance at Wrenfeather, Stormpaw realized that the only reason he had so much time to spend with his Clanmates today was because of the older apprentices’ assessments. He rarely had the time for extended conversations with Icemint and Rookshade, even though the deputy seemed much more placated when Stormpaw was in their presence rather than Dawnstrike or Ferrettail. 

Suddenly, Wasppaw trotted through the camp entrance with Mistypool close behind him; it nearly felt like Stormpaw had willed it into happening. His grandmother looked weary as she followed the golden apprentice, her usually attentive green eyes now dull as her sides heaved from her deep breaths. Stormpaw watched as the two cats padded toward Wrenfeather, the younger breaking away to meet his brother while Mistypool spoke with the deputy. It didn’t take long for the golden-brown tom’s eyes to brighten with pride, the display more than enough to tell Stormpaw that they had both passed their assessments. 

Shortly after, the deputy trotted to Thistlestar’s den and vanished inside. Beside Stormpaw, Icemint let out a short, light-hearted sigh. For the first time, he realized how their breath billowed out in front of them before vanishing into the cold leafbare air.

“It looks like the apprentices’ den will be down to you and Silverpaw,” the grey-and-white molly commented, her eyes on the two older apprentices. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Falconwing starts to complain about how cramped the warriors’ den becomes, though.”

“There  _ are _ a lot of warriors right now, aren't there?” Stormpaw mumbled in response; he’d only seen the inside of the warriors’ den a few times, but he knew that there wasn’t  _ that _ much room for nests. “Do you think we’ll have to expand it?”

“It’ll probably be necessary after leafbare,” Icemint mewed thoughtfully, her green eyes trailing toward her brothers’ den. “Maybe it’s good that it’s a bit cramped right now, though. It gets pretty cold during the night when there’s more space around you.”

Stormpaw gave a nod, agreeing with her. Before he could respond further, though, Thistlestar emerged from his den with Wrenfeather at his side. The leader quickly climbed onto the Highroot, his expression much brighter than the last few times he had made an announcement.

“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather before me!” His voice rang across the thin air freely. Stormpaw slowly inched closer to his uncle’s perch, noticing how Icemint moved to stay by his side. The clearing quickly filled with curious and excited eyes; like Stormpaw, they all seemed to realize how much more cheerful Thistlestar sounded this time.

“Today, we welcome two new warriors into our ranks,” the white-furred tom spoke when the crowd had settled. He paused, visibly noting that Cricketpaw and Wasppaw were already below him, then continued speaking. “I, Thistlestar, leader of NightClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on these apprentices. They’ve trained hard to understand the code we uphold, and I commend them each to you as a warrior in their turn. Wasppaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to defend and protect your Clanmates, even at the cost of your life?”

“I do, Thistlestar!” Wasppaw responded, his voice as clear as the leader’s. Stormpaw tilted his head and noticed how still the deputy’s son was, even though his green eyes twinkled with excitement.

“Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Wasppaw, from this moment on, you’ll be known as Waspcatcher. StarClan honors your independence and honesty, and we welcome you as a full warrior of NightClan.”

Thistlestar stopped speaking and, just like he did during the ceremony for Rookshade and Falconwing, lifted his muzzle toward the cold leafbare sky. Waspcatcher quickly followed his lead, slowly closing his eyes as he did so. All around Stormpaw, their Clanmates erupted into brief cheers. He stayed silent, though—it made more sense to save his cheers for the end of the ceremony. It wasn’t long before his uncle turned to face Cricketpaw, whose excitement was much more visible than his brother’s.

“Cricketpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to defend and protect your Clanmates, even at the cost of your life?”

“I do!” Cricketpaw’s voice was nearly a shout as he responded, and even though a few chuckles rippled through the crowd, the brown tabby kept his head proudly lifted.

“Then by the powers of StarClan, I grant you your warrior name. Cricketpaw, from this moment onward, you’ll be known as Cricketfern. StarClan honors your kindness and compassion, and we welcome you as a full member of the Clan.”

“Waspcatcher! Cricketfern!” Immediately, the clearing erupted into near-deafening cheers for the new warriors. Stormpaw finally decided to let his voice chime with his Clanmates, though one voice seemed to sound above the others. He glanced across the clearing and noticed Silverpaw with Rookshade, her blue eyes sparking with pride and happiness as she called out her friends’ names. Stormpaw groaned internally at the sight; even though Rookshade had finally caught her attention, she still seemed far too focused on Cricketfern. 

“I have one final announcement to make,” Thistlestar’s voice surprised Stormpaw when the cheers died down. His uncle gazed down into the crowd, and when Stormpaw followed it, he realized he was staring at Mistypool. “It’s come to my attention that Mistypool wishes to retire to the elders’ den—is this true, Mistypool?”

“Yes, my son,” the older molly responded with a surprising warmth to her tone, her words disregarding the formality he tried to assume. “It’s time.”

“Very well.” Though Thistlestar’s words sounded regretful, Stormpaw could see the relief written on his face as plain as day. “Your Clan honors you, and all the service you’ve given us. I call upon StarClan to give you many well-deserved moons of rest.”

“Mistypool!” The Clan cheered as the dark grey molly padded to join the elders outside of their den. Daisynose greeted her sister happily, as did the rest of the elders. The crowd quickly started to dissipate, though many cats remained grouped to chatter at the edges of the clearing.

Stormpaw noticed how Silverpaw broke away from Rookshade and started approaching Cricketfern. He swiftly shot Icemint an apologetic glance before rushing to intercept his sister, almost forgetting the fact that they had hardly spoken in over two moons. The look Silverpaw gave him was enough to remind him of it—a guarded, almost wary expression rested on her muzzle, and her usually expressive blue eyes revealed nothing.

“Stormpaw?” she asked, her tone almost  _ too _ light. “Have you come to congratulate them, too?” As she spoke, the silver-point molly flicked her fluffy tail in the direction of the new warriors, who were currently being smothered by the affections of Newtsplash.

Resisting the urge to cringe at the sight, Stormpaw shook his head. “I- I mean, I’m happy for them, but I wanted to talk to you.”

“Did you finally decide to quit your dream-tra—”

“N-No, hush!” Stormpaw’s eyes widened as he quickly tried to quiet his sister.  _ Maybe this was a bad idea,  _ he thought, glancing at where Wrenfeather sat with his family only a few tail-lengths away.  _ I’d  _ never _ be able to explain that to him. _ “Look, don’t ever bring that up when others are so near, okay? I just wanted to talk to you about Cricketfern.”

“What about him?” Silverpaw’s expression quickly turned into a frown as she glanced toward the brown tabby tom briefly. The gaze she pulled back to her brother was almost painfully inquisitive.

“I just think you should be careful how close you get, you know?” Stormpaw looked away when he felt his fur burn under his sister’s gaze. “N-Now that he’s a warrior, I mean. He’ll probably get distracted by . . . by the extra responsibility of it, yeah?” 

Silverpaw narrowed her eyes at him, and Stormpaw felt his pelt prickle at her response. “Weren’t you always trying to get me to talk to Rookshade, though?” she queried suspiciously before sending another glance at Cricketfern _. “He _ sure doesn’t seem distracted by the warriors’ duties, why should it be any different for Cricketfern?”

“ _ Well,  _ Rookshade always seems to have, ah—” Stormpaw hesitated as he tried to think of a reason for his words.  _ This was a  _ horrible  _ idea,  _ he scolded himself again as he stumbled over his voice.  _ This is almost embarrassing at this point. _ “—he . . . has more free time than most warriors, you know! He always works through his duties quickly, and he’s always willing to be there for his Clanmates.” 

Stormpaw had never been more eager to stop talking. He resisted the painful urge to let out a sheepish sigh and slowly turned to meet his sister’s gaze. While he was ready to meet a guarded or even withering expression once more, he was only met with an unusually distant gaze. The dark grey tom quickly wondered if he had said something wrong when he realized how strained Silverpaw looked—as if she were suddenly remembering something that shook her deeply.

“Uh, S-Silver, are you okay?” he asked warily, leaning a bit closer out of concern.

“Huh?” Silverpaw mumbled, blinking as she seemed to ground herself again. “I’m okay, I was just thinking about something. Sorry, Stormpaw—I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“No, maybe I shouldn’t have—” Stormpaw tried to apologize, only to sit back in shock when Silverpaw cut him off.

“You actually might have a point,” she mewed softly, her gaze suddenly trailing to the layer of snow on the earth. “D’you really think Rookshade would be better for me?”

“Y-Yeah, kinda,” Stormpaw was the one mumbling this time as he tried to figure out what had just clicked inside of Silverpaw’s mind. “I mean, obviously I don’t control your life, I just worry—”

“I get it.” Just like that, Silverpaw’s cheerful facade had reclaimed its place on her muzzle. “Thanks, Stormpaw.” The tom found himself only nodding in response, his mind whirling more with each passing moment.

“Silv, hey!” Cricketfern’s voice sent a claw of shame through Stormpaw, who winced and tried to act casual. “I heard you cheering after the ceremony—just think, you’ll be joining us soon enough, and then I can cheer above the crowd for you, too!” 

Silverpaw awkwardly mumbled something in response, then dipped her head to Cricketfern and rushed off—apparently to speak with her mentor. Stormpaw felt a twinge of guilt as he watched, and the sensation only increased when he noticed Cricketfern’s crestfallen face. The brown tabby watched her go before turning and padding toward Waspcatcher, his tail drooping slightly. 

“Stormpaw, what in the name of StarClan was that?” Icemint’s voice made him nearly leap out of his fur; he had totally forgotten about how he practically abandoned the molly to try and steer his sister’s attention back toward Rookshade. “I’ve never seen Silverpaw look so dejected—or Cricketfern!”

The apprentice opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. His mind couldn’t wrap around the destruction he seemed to have caused.  _ I don’t think I should have done that.  _ Even his own thoughts came slowly, as if he wasn’t even sure what to think for once. Suddenly, he felt eyes burning into his pelt, and he hesitantly turned his head to look for the source of the feeling. Stormpaw didn’t expect to meet Rookshade’s gaze; even more surprising was the scowl the tom sent in his direction. The unusual sight sent a shudder down Stormpaw’s spine and he quickly tore his gaze away from his friend.

_ I definitely should  _ not _ have done that. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the published chapters are,, sloowwly catching up to the main chapters lmao this isnt scary at all
> 
> buut ive got lots of juicy side-plot to deepen some of these character relationships, and give background characters more spotlight!


	18. The Assessment (17)

Silverpaw let out a sigh of exhaustion as she padded into the camp behind Cindertalon. He had just finished training her for the entire first half of the day, and he hardly gave her a moment to recover in between lessons. He was gracious enough to give her some time to relax at sunhigh, though, and she was beyond ready to just sit alone with her thoughts for a while.

"Hey, Silverpaw?" When Waspcatcher hesitantly approached her, it took all of her willpower to hide her displeasure with his sudden presence. Initially, she had only hoped for peace and quiet. Now, the warrior’s voice reminded her that she had practically avoided Cricketfern ever since their warrior ceremony over a moon ago.

"What is it, Waspcatcher?" she asked quietly, doing her best to remain friendly toward the golden-brown tom. _He's done nothing wrong,_ she reminded herself coolly. _Neither of them have._

"Are you okay?" The question came as a shock to the silver-point molly, though she quickly brushed it off.

"Yeah, of course," Silverpaw mewed, keeping her tone cheerful and light. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I mean, Cricketfern said you haven't talked to him much since our ceremony." As he spoke, Waspcatcher glanced across the clearing at his brother. Silverpaw eyed him carefully while his gaze was elsewhere; he was the last cat she expected to show this kind of attention to the relationships of others, and the topic made her uneasy.

"I'm fine," she repeated her answer, her tone hardening for a fraction of a moment. "Really, Wasp, don't worry."

"Are you sure?" Waspcatcher asked and turned back to her. He caught her gaze, and Silverpaw found her pelt prickling at the sudden seriousness of his stare.

Suddenly, she perked her ears and looked around, pretending to have heard something. "Oh, sorry, I think I heard Cindertalon calling me! I'll see you later, Waspcatcher!" 

Silverpaw didn't give the tom a chance to respond as she ran toward where she last saw her mentor. Once there was a reasonable distance between herself and Waspcatcher, she let out a relieved sigh and slowed her pace. On top of the distance that had formed between herself and Cricketfern, Silverpaw had felt strangely disconnected from nearly everyone over the course of the past moon. Stormpaw’s words after the ceremony reminded her of how Rookshade insisted that she deserved to be treated better than she had been, and for some reason, she started second guessing all of her choices. Silverpaw immediately grew terrified of the idea that she could turn out like Mintwillow—stuck with broken relationships, living in fear of what others thought or what they could do. _She was scared enough to leave without telling anyone,_ she reminded herself, feeling unusually grim. The thoughts hung over her head constantly, bringing with them a sense of existential dread that she couldn't seem to escape.

"Silverpaw." Cindertalon's formal greeting broke through her thoughts, and she started a bit as she looked at her mentor. "I was just coming to get you."

"E-Eh?" Silverpaw squeaked in surprise and tilted her head. "But we just got back from training—I thought we were finished for a little while."

"Actually, after our session today, Wrenfeather approached me," Cindertalon mewed slowly, holding Silverpaw's gaze steadily. "We think it's time for your final assessment."

"W-What?!" Silverpaw didn't even care about how her tone rose into an almost-shrill noise. "N-No, I think you're mistaken, Cindertalon. Surely we still have some more training—"

"Silverpaw, your sixth moon of training has just passed," the tom reminded her gently. "You and Stormpaw have both excelled a bit compared to most apprentices, even if your skill as a hunter doesn't flourish so much. We think you're ready."

Silverpaw felt her blood freeze up as she tried to hold her mentor's gaze. "I disagree," she blurted out suddenly, shaking her head. "I need more training, really—!"

"Is this about the troubles you've had with hunting?" Cindertalon's tone softened, and he tilted his head a bit. "Silverpaw, you know we're going to be a bit more lax for the hunting portion, right? It's nearly the middle of leafbare, so there's hardly much to catch in the first place."

"I don't know . . . ." Silverpaw tore her gaze from her mentor's and looked down at her paws. _How could they think I'm ready for this?_ she fretted to herself. 

"Hey," Cindertalon continued, but this time his tone hardened. "You've got this, Silverpaw. You know the code, you know your stealth and combat tactics—you're going to do just fine. Look, Wrenfeather and Stormpaw are already waiting by the front tunnel."

Reluctantly, Silverpaw gave in, despite how much she anticipated her own failure. Her breath was tight in her lungs, and even though the chilly leafbare air _certainly_ contributed to that feeling, she knew she'd mostly brought it upon herself. She almost felt dazed as Cindertalon took her away from Stormpaw and Wrenfeather, and then sent her into their snow-covered territory on her own.

"I'll be watching in secret," he promised her, though he sat calmly in the snow. "Go on, and do your best. If you run into Stormpaw, you'll have to spar with him to prove you understand our battle techniques."

Silverpaw only offered a nod as she crept away from Cindertalon and into the forest. Her gratitude was immeasurable when the feeling of his eyes on her vanished, and she finally felt her panic start ebbing away. _Maybe I'll get lucky and see a few unsuspecting birds,_ she mused in an attempt to calm herself. _Or maybe a rabbit—no, that would be too lucky. Birds are safe to wish for._

Her thoughts continued as Silverpaw crept through the forest, though she didn't pick up traces of any kind of prey. Just as she was about to give up and declare her failure to her mentor, she heard a twig snap and hid behind a thicket that still had some dead leaves clinging to it. _Stormpaw, I hope you’re ready for this,_ she thought. Slowly, she peeked around the thicket and nearly reeled in surprise when she saw two _huge_ cats padding through the snow ahead of her. One, a molly, had dark grey fur so long that it brushed against the snow whenever she moved. The other was a greyish seal-point tabby tom; his pelt was just as thick as the other cat's, though the fur didn't droop in the same manner.

Neither of the cats said anything, but if Silverpaw could judge by their movements, they were searching for something. The molly hardly moved while the tom would walk a few paces away to search through the snow, or inspect a few tree trunks. The behavior continued as they slowly crept through NightClan territory, unaware of Silverpaw's presence.

Suddenly, the seal-point tom let out a short breath of exasperation. "We can't rest until I find what I've lost." Despite the slight edge of irritation to his tone, his thick-furred tail bobbed lazily behind him and his tufted ears stayed perked.

"They might be long gone by now, O. It's been moons since the last report," the grey molly mewed steadily, hardly twitching to look at him.

"I still don't understand. Things were good," he grumbled a bit, flicking his fluffy-furred tail in time with his words. "We could have had the world together, you know."

"We can't expect everyone to understand." This time, the big molly almost sounded sympathetic as she addressed her companion. “I suppose I’m partially to blame—ever since that tom escaped our judgment seasons ago, others have begun doubting us.”

"Shade—" The name immediately struck a chord within Silverpaw. When it was uttered, she was halfway through a step, and upon hearing it, she forgot to tread lightly through the delicate snow. When the crisp white layer gave a noisy _crunch_ in response to her pawstep, she froze—as did the two cats ahead of her.

"Who's there?" the molly called, her voice sending an icicle of fear through Silverpaw. "Show yourself." 

The apprentice hardly registered that they were still in NightClan territory as she stepped out of the snow-covered undergrowth slowly. Even though _they_ were trespassing on Clan territory, Silverpaw almost felt like she had to submit to them. Now that she faced them, she realized the two strangers were even larger than she had first thought. _StarClan, they would squash me!_ She could feel her panic growing again as her movements froze up. _Cindertalon must be watching, right? He’ll step in soon to help! Wait—no, he'd surely get reinforcements first._

"My, my," the grey-furred molly murmured, sounding much more amused than before. "What do we have here?" She sent a knowing glance at the tom beside her, whose expression hardened when he saw Silverpaw.

"You're—" he started hesitantly, narrowing his blue eyes in what looked like suspicion. Then, the look was gone, and he appeared much more lighthearted—almost approachable, if the circumstances had been different. "You must be one of the nearby Clans' apprentices. No longer kit-sized—not even close, yet you still have that telltale youthful look to your eyes."

Silverpaw only stared at them both, still frozen in her spot. She had no idea what she was supposed to say, or if she was supposed to respond at all, to their observations of her. For a moment, she wondered if she should have fled the moment she gave away her position. _No, I could have led them back to the camp if I did that,_ she told herself sternly. _It's better to only risk myself, in case they're with the rogues who have been attacking us._ While her mind ran rampant in an attempt to concoct a plan, Silverpaw continued to examine the rogues in front of her. She quickly realized that, even though the grey molly— _Shade?_ —looked thoroughly entertained, her companion almost seemed surprised beneath his friendly facade. _They weren’t expecting to see me; maybe they aren’t used to being snuck up on._

"How adorable," the molly murmured again, her amber eyes finding their way back to Silverpaw. "She's shy, Oasis. Say, what's your name?"

Just like that, Silverpaw felt her panic _skyrocket._ At first, she had been skeptical of who these cats were, but now she was certain—they were the horrible cats mentioned by Absent. They were the ones responsible for his scar, and the suffering of countless cats at the Twolegplace. _Forget squashing, they could kill me right here and now!_ Just as her panic neared its peak, Silverpaw realized how crucial it was that she compose herself. If she could stay calm, maybe use her wits, she could turn the situation around and come out on top. All thoughts of her assessment had vanished with her new, singular goal; she had to get out of there unscathed and without putting her Clanmates in danger.

"Aren't young Clan cats normally accompanied by their superiors?" the tom spoke up this time, still eyeing Silverpaw, though he bore an even friendlier expression than before. In the time she had taken to compose herself, he seemed to recover from the shock of an apprentice sneaking up on them. "Why are you alone?"

"I'm not," Silverpaw countered quickly, making herself hold their gazes this time. "My patrol is nearby—I could call them over with a single yowl if I wanted to."

"Why don't you do that, then?" Shade spoke slowly. Silverpaw could almost hear the smirk that threatened to show at the edges of her expression. "Surely they would have come to retrieve you by now."

"If that's how you feel, why haven't you attacked me?" Even though Silverpaw infused confidence into her words, she could feel her unease threatening to spill over. "If you truly thought I was alone, you'd have made a move by now."

"Darling, we don't attack kits," Shade suddenly let out a snort of laughter and shook out her pelt. "Do you really think rogues like us would have such low standards for ourselves?"

"What if that _kit_ attacked you first?" Silverpaw narrowed her eyes a bit and, instead of dropping into a fighting stance, she stood a bit taller. "Here in the Clans, we defend our territory with our lives, and from where I'm standing, you're both trespassing on our land. You need to leave."

"Oh?" the large molly mimicked Silverpaw's posture, though her tone was thick with amusement. "Is that a challenge?"

"Shade, stop screwing around. Let's get moving," Oasis muttered suddenly, turning to lead her away. A twig snapped somewhere behind Silverpaw, and she quickly crouched into a fighting stance in an attempt to hide the noise. The large tom didn’t even spare a glance over his shoulder as he said, "Don't even try it." _He can't think I'm that stupid,_ Silverpaw scoffed mentally and glared at the tom's back. She knew when the odds were stacked against her, but if her Clanmates were nearby, she needed to hide their presence.

"Sure, I was getting restless, anyways," Shade purred as she followed Oasis away from Silverpaw. "You know we won't find a trace, but . . . ah, I suppose it can't be helped."

"If you come back, you'll have my entire Clan to answer to!" Silverpaw threatened as she rose up from her fighting stance.

The large molly threw Silverpaw a knowing glance over her shoulder before saying, "Keep telling yourself that." 

Silverpaw shuddered and watched them leave with her ears perked. _Cindertalon would have arrived with reinforcements by now if he was getting them,_ she told herself while she listened to the fading pawsteps. _Maybe it was safer for me to face them alone, if they truly don't attack apprentices._ Once she was certain they were beyond earshot, she let out a relieved sigh and turned around.

"Stormpaw," she called, her tone harsher than she had intended it to be, "don't you think you could have been a bit quieter?"

Immediately, Stormpaw emerged from his cover, though he looked unusually guarded. Instead of meeting Silverpaw's criticizing gaze, his jade-colored eyes were fixated on the spot where the rogues had stood only moments before. Silverpaw narrowed her eyes a bit, trying to read his emotions to no avail. _Did he see something else while I was caught up with them?_

"We should follow them," he suggested suddenly, sounding annoyed by the entire situation. "We need to make sure they left the territory. It’s only right, considering they interrupted our assessments like that." 

Silverpaw eyed him again before looking toward the rogues' trail. "Okay, fine. Stay out of sight, and run if I tell you to. We need to be ready to fetch help." _And you need to get better at hiding,_ she added silently. Some part of her felt like he hadn't voiced the true reason he wanted to follow them, but she let it be. _Just like Cindertalon would have intervened if he thought it was necessary, Stormpaw would have spoken his mind._

“Don’t give me that,” the dark grey tom snapped as he started following the snow-tail the cats had left. "If anyone's going to be fetching help, it'll be you."

"Why, so you can act all brave for a few extra points?" Silverpaw spoke before she realized what was happening. When she noticed Stormpaw tense at her words, she rolled her eyes and decided to go with it. "We both know you're the faster of the two of us, Storm. Besides, I've already shown that I can hold my ground against them without unnecessary bloodshed."

Stormpaw's only response was a grunt and a shake of his head as they followed the pawprints left in the snow. Once she could hear the faint sound of snow crunching and creaking beneath the rogues' paws, Silverpaw broke away from her brother and crept closer. This time, the two large cats apparently knew better than to speak aloud. Silverpaw could hardly blame them; she'd be wary, too, after finding out someone was eavesdropping on her.

Soon enough, the rogues crossed the border into unclaimed territory, though they seemed to hover nearby for a short while afterwards. Silverpaw silently crept away from the border and made her way to Stormpaw, who had kept more than enough distance when tailing the trespassers.

"Should we finish our tests, now?" he asked almost as soon as they met. "Wrenfeather told me we were to spar if we met each other, so . . . ." Silverpaw held back a frown when she noticed the uncertainty in her brother's voice. Even if they had grown painfully distant in such a short amount of time, she wanted to find a way to reassure him. Before she could muster a response, the bushes behind them rustled and both Wrenfeather and Cindertalon swiftly emerged.

"Actually, we've seen enough," the deputy spoke slowly, as if he were considering his words. Silverpaw bristled at his voice; even though she had assumed that Cindertalon had watched over her, she still felt embarrassed. 

"You did good," Cindertalon added, seeming to pick up on Silverpaw's emotions. "We should return to camp—Thistlestar will need to hear about this."

Though they fell into step easily, Stormpaw pouted noticeably. "How come neither of you came to help? I thought those rogues were supposed to be dangerous."

"They are," Cindertalon responded, his tone suddenly grim. "If a grown warrior had intervened, they would have made a move to attack."

Silverpaw caught sight of a skeptical glance her brother sent at the warrior, but much to her relief he didn't say anything else. Ahead of them, she noticed how her mentor looked more uneasy than she was used to seeing him. After hastening her pace, she glanced over at him, hardly noticing how she no longer needed to crane her head to meet his gaze.

“Cindertalon?” Silverpaw started slowly, still unsure if she wanted to utter the question that danced at the edge of her tongue. When she caught his eye, however, she looked away and pushed herself to speak. “Did you know those rogues?”

“. . . Yes,” Cindertalon responded after a moment. “Do you remember the story Absent told you a few moons ago?”

“Yeah—I figured out who they were soon enough,” Silverpaw spoke more confidently once she realized the warrior was okay with the topic. “One was Oasis, and the other was . . . Shade, right?”

“She prefers that most call her _Sister_ Shade, but yes.” Cindertalon seemed to hesitate on the words he wanted to speak, and Silverpaw threw him another questioning glance. A few awkward moments passed over the four cats before he finally added, “You both handled the situation well.”

“Y-You think so?” While the sudden praise flustered Silverpaw, she could still notice how it was offered to drive the conversation away from the rogues. 

_Maybe he wasn’t as comfortable with the subject as I thought,_ she mused, feeling a bit guilty as they returned to the camp in silence. Their forms carved a path through the snow as they moved back to their home, though none of them seemed to care now that the rogues had left. _We wouldn’t be able to hide our trail much anyways, would we?_ Silverpaw realized when she glanced at the snow behind them. The thought of the rogues finding their camp made her shudder—from the way Cindertalon and Absent spoke of them, they sounded truly dangerous. 

Before Silverpaw could continue pondering over it, though, she noticed that they had arrived at the camp. Once inside, their mentors both approached Thistlestar without another word to them. Silverpaw quickly exchanged a worried glance with her brother when she felt doubt bloom inside of her. _Neither of us caught anything, and we didn’t even get to spar because they interrupted!_ she thought anxiously. _What if they extend our training like I suggested earlier? StarClan, that would be so embarrassing!_

It wasn’t long, though, before she saw Thistlestar’s form nearly bursting with pride as he leaped up the stones that formed his den, and then onto the Highroot. Briefly, she caught his amber gaze—a gaze full of warmth and encouragement. 

“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather below me!” her uncle called after meeting her gaze. Once the Clan had crowded before him, the tom looked down on Silverpaw and Stormpaw and continued. “Today is a proud day for NightClan—perhaps the proudest day I’ve lived to see so far. Not only did they pass their assessments, but these two apprentices were faced with the rogues who have been terrorizing our patrols and came out unscathed. Silverpaw and Stormpaw, step forward.”

Slowly, Silverpaw took several trembling steps toward her uncle. Stormpaw took a few confident strides, hardly glancing back as his sister struggled with her burst of anticipation. Even though it was clear now that they had earned their warrior names—or at least, the older cats thought as much—Silverpaw’s heart only beat harder against her ribcage. She blinked hard a few times, screwing her eyes shut each time, and then sent a cautious glance around the clearing. The action was a mistake, as she quickly realized that her Clanmates eyes were on her and Stormpaw. There wasn’t a single, piercing gaze that she was free from, but when she suddenly met Cindertalon’s encouraging amber stare, she found she felt a bit better. Beside her mentor was Rookshade, who looked just as reassuring and encouraging as his father. With a hard gulp of air, Silverpaw turned to face her uncle again, who looked more cheerful than ever.

“I, Thistlestar, leader of NightClan, call upon our warrior ancestors to look down on these young cats. They’ve trained harder than most to understand the code we uphold, and I commend them each to you as a warrior in their turn. Stormpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to defend and protect your Clan, even at the cost of your life?”

“I do!” Stormpaw called out beside Silverpaw, his voice echoing around the camp. 

“Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. From this moment on, you’ll be known as Stormrunner. The ancestors honor your resilience and independence, and I’m honored to welcome you as a full warrior of NightClan.”

Thistlestar raised his muzzle to face the frigid leafbare sun as their Clanmates briefly cheered for the dark grey tom. When Stormpaw mimicked him, Silverpaw noticed how stiffly he moved. She caught sight of his jade eyes just before they shut and realized that there wasn’t the slightest hint of excitement or anticipation in his gaze; there was only a steely coldness that Silverpaw couldn’t recognize. She held back a shudder at the sight and turned to face her uncle once the cheers ceased.

“Silverpaw,” he called warmly, “do you also promise to uphold our code and to defend and protect the Clan, even if it costs you your life?”

“I- I do,” Silverpaw stammered quickly, her ears burning with embarrassment when her voice faltered. She heard a few stifled chuckles from her Clanmates and her pelt heated up even more. 

Thistlestar only displayed the tiniest amount of amusement as he continued speaking. “Then by the powers of StarClan, I grant you your warrior name. From this moment on, you’ll be known as Silvermist. StarClan honors your cleverness and patience, and we welcome you as a full warrior of NightClan.”

When her uncle faced the sun, Silvermist quickly copied the movement. She shut her eyes to the blinding blue sky, not noticing how her Clanmates hadn’t started cheering yet. Only when she opened her eyes did they erupt into a chorus of voices, echoing so loudly that she was sure all of the prey had been scared out of the forest.

“Silvermist! Stormrunner!”

As their names were called, Silvermist couldn’t help but feel a bit downcast. She sent a glance toward Stormrunner, wondering if he felt the same way she did. The distance between herself and her brother was nearly palpable by now, and she _hated_ it, but what could she even say to clear the air? Six moons ago, they were ready to face the world together. They would have done everything to stick together through thick and thin, but now they couldn’t utter a word to the other without an almost painful tension following it. Just like today—they could barely handle their interactions during their assessment, as it was the most he’d spoken to her since the ceremony of Cricketfern and Waspcatcher.

“Silvermist! Woo-hoo!” As if the thought had cued it, Silvermist heard a singular voice ringing above the rest of the cheers. She tensed a bit and turned her head to meet Cricketfern’s brilliant amber eyes. Despite her distance over the past moon and a half, he still showed her as much kindness and affection as ever. The sight made her heart twist with the guilt that bloomed. _I’m such a mouse-heart, aren’t I?_ she thought miserably. _Punishing others for things that I’m only afraid of happening—what if Stormrunner_ is _right, though? If I'm not careful, I could end up just like Mintwillow—couldn’t I?_

Suddenly, the friendliness and encouragement in Cricketfern’s amber eyes was replaced by a look of an almost sad kind of understanding. Though Silvermist willed him not to look at her like that, she held his gaze almost unwaveringly, trying to ignore the way her heart throbbed painfully in her chest.

“Silvermist, congratulations!” Rookshade’s friendly voice interrupted the gazes that she and Cricketfern sent each other. “My father told me what happened today; it sounded like you handled the situation like a pro!”

“T-Thanks, Rook,” Silvermist murmured shyly as she forced a happier expression into her muzzle. “It was nothing, really. They said they don’t even attack apprentices.” A flicker in Rookshade’s eyes hinted that he might have seen the silent exchange of emotions between her and Cricketfern, though he said nothing of it, much to Silvermist’s relief. Instead, he continued talking light-heartedly about the rogues, and she felt herself slowly relax into the conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we out here lmao uhhhh yeah
> 
> this chapter definitely felt like one of the more underwhelming ones to write, but hopefully the next few make up for it! once i can think of titles for them, that is :,)


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